


I've Got You Under My Skin

by Oripoke



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Chloe being too gay to function, F/F, Hipsters, Magical Realism, Mystery, Portland, Romance, Tattoo Artist!Max, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2018-11-23 13:20:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 87,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11403255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oripoke/pseuds/Oripoke
Summary: AU. Max is an enigmatic and talented tattoo artist, known in the underground art world only by her pen name, “Jane Doe.” Chloe is Jane Doe's biggest fan, and would give anything to get one of her tattoos on her body. As their lives collide, something greater than a tattoo seems to be drawing the two women closer together. Beginning with strange dreams and unnatural phenomena, their meeting sets into motion events that will transform the city of Portland forever...





	1. Butterfly

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back, LiS fandom! This is my second fic in this fandom, and I wanted to try something a bit more experimental this time, focusing on Chloe's point of view instead of Max. I've had this story sitting in draft form for so long, and it's finally time for it to see the light of day, what with _Before the Storm_ coming soon!
> 
> This story is AU, and the exact circumstances of how it is AU will be revealed as the fic progresses. The only thing you need to know is that Chloe doesn't have her sleeve tattoo in this world yet, and that she and Max a bit older than in canon.
> 
> Title comes from the [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C1AHec7sfZ8) by Frank Sinatra, although I'm partial to [this remix](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BVeG-9Q0laI).
> 
> With all that said, enjoy and please comment if you liked it!

Chloe stood outside of the door to the tattoo parlor, clutching at the slip of paper that she held in her hand. No, she wasn’t nervous - not at all. She was only there for a meeting with the best underground tattoo artist in Portland, her biggest idol in the body art world. No big deal.

The door jingled as she pushed it open and stepped inside. The man behind the reception desk regarded her suspiciously. He was one of those solid bodybuilder types with ink covering practically every inch of his body. Chloe secretly appraised the work he had done: elaborate fish scales rolling down his shoulder, which formed the backdrop to an underwater scene on his sleeve. Strange, primordial creatures swam across the surface of his skin, seeming almost alive in the ink. Chloe recognized the artistry right away. Without a doubt, she was in the right place.

“You got an appointment?” he asked her in a gravelly voice.

“Yeah,” Chloe said, uncurling the slip of paper she had been holding in her palm. “I’m here for a consultation with Jane Doe.”

He gestured to Chloe that she should give him the slip of paper. After studying it for a minute, he nodded. “Take a seat,” he told her. “The artist will be with you shortly.”

Chloe sat in one of the chairs in the waiting area, putting on an air of indifference in order to mask the growing anticipation in her gut. She scanned the images which hung on the walls, depicting sketch designs as well as photographs of finished tattoos. There were several artists that worked at this parlor, but by far the most popular and renowned in the indie circuit was the mysterious artist known only as Jane Doe. She was famously secretive; everybody knew that her name was only a pseudonym, and there was next to no information about her online, other than examples of her excellent work. Chloe wasn’t even sure whether she was a “she” or not. It was just as well; she probably wanted her artwork to speak for itself.

Chloe remembered the very first time she saw one of Jane Doe’s tattoos. She’d been at a bar, one of her favorite haunts in Portland because it offered cheap beer and free punk shows every week. The bartender served her a drink, and as he turned his head she saw it: on his neck was a tattoo of a praying mantis perched on a leaf, with dew drops glistening on its carapace. It was small, but elegant; beautiful, yet deadly. She found herself transfixed by it immediately and had asked the bartender about it the next chance she got.

“Oh, this?” he’d said with a smile. “It’s an original by Jane Doe. Have you heard of her?”

Chloe hadn’t at that time, but looked her up as soon as she had the chance. Pictures of her art were everywhere online, tattoo enthusiast blogs raving about her style, which combines photorealism and symbolism in such a way that the subjects of her tattoos seemed as though they were alive. From her unofficial Facebook fan page (Jane Doe herself being markedly absent from any public social media site), Chloe learned that every one of her tattoos was unique, personalized to the one that requested it. Also that she was particular about which clients she would see, and that her wait list was six months long.

Chloe resigned herself to the long wait and called to book a meeting six months in advance. Then, just two weeks later, she got a call back to tell her that due to a cancellation, her meeting with Jane Doe could be pushed forward. She’d nearly leapt up and shouted with delight at the news, but instead she carefully set up an appointment before hanging the phone and giving a whoop of joy. She’d done it! She was going to meet the artist of her dreams!

Her joy quickly gave way to the chill of nerves. What if Jane saw her and then dismissed her? Chloe had heard of potential clients getting rejected before because Jane refused to work on them. Because of this, she’d also accrued a vocal minority of haters online, who blasted her work on online message boards and called her a phony and a poser. Chloe, never one to back away from a fight, was always there to leap to her defense. Okay, so,  _ maybe _ she had a bit of a savior complex about her? ...Whatever. Internet arguments weren’t like real fights, anyway. Besides, it wasn’t as if Jane Doe ever actually _ read  _ the messages people posted about her…

The man at the front desk cleared his throat. Chloe glanced up at the clock on the wall: two o-clock, the time of her appointment. The receptionist caught her gaze and nodded at her, standing up from his desk. “The artist is ready to see you,” he told her, and beckoned for Chloe to follow him into a back room. She did so, her heart hammering in her chest.  _ Keep it together, Chloe Price _ , she told herself as the man knocked at a door, then opened it a crack.

“Max,” he said, “Your next client is here.”

“Let her in,” came a feminine voice from the other side. Chloe was perplexed. Max? Who was Max? Had there been some kind of mix-up? The man opened the door wider and Chloe stepped inside. As soon as she saw inside, she realized that there had been no mistake whatsoever.

From wall to wall, the room was papered with designs that she recognized. Pinned to the mirror was the original sketch for the blue jay tattoo Chloe had set as her phone’s lock screen. On the far wall was a massive, framed picture of the Tree of Life, a full-back spread that she’d seen before in pictures and that had convinced her, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Jane Doe was the artist she wanted. Framed by the drawing desk was the original drawing of the praying mantis that had first turned her on to Jane’s work. But nothing in the room could compare with the girl who was seated at her desk, smiling slightly as Chloe shamelessly gawked at her.

In her fannish devotion, Chloe had often entertained thoughts as to what Jane Doe might look like. There were no pictures of her online, of course, but Chloe had often imagined her as a cool older woman, maybe in her 40s or 50s, with colorful hair and piercings and ink on every square inch of her skin. She’d also considered the idea that Jane Doe could very well be a man, someone like the receptionist who had greeted her at the door. But none of her fantasies had came close to anything like this.

The girl seated at the drawing desk in the corner of the room was about Chloe’s age, or maybe even younger. She had medium-length brown hair, un-dyed, with one side buzzed in an undercut. The only piercings she wore were two in each ear and an eyebrow ring. She wasn’t tattooed from head to toe; Chloe spied only a tattoo of a simple spiral on her right hand, and an unrecognizable design poking out from under the neck of her tee-shirt. Bright blue eyes, framed by dark lashes, shone from her youthful face. She had freckles on her cheeks.

She smiled, and Chloe’s stomach flip-flopped.  _ Shit _ , she thought,  _ this girl’s hella cute. _

“Hi,” she said in a soft voice, “You’re Chloe, right? I was expecting you. I’m Jane Doe, but you can just call me Max, if you want.”

“Uhhh,” Chloe responded incoherently, then realized she’d been staring with her mouth open for far too long, and that Jane or Max or whoever she was was probably thinking she was crazy right about now. She closed her mouth and nodded. “Yeah, sorry for staring. I just -- you're not really what I was expecting."

The other girl giggled, a bright, happy sound that Chloe never expected to hear from her favorite artist in a million years. “Don’t worry, a lot of people are surprised when they first meet me, too. I’m kinda used to it by now.” She hopped off from her drawing chair, and Chloe realized that she was  _ tiny _ ; not just short, but petite, with delicate features that reminded her of a little bird.

“Yeah, when I was picturing a legendary tattoo artist, I guess I wasn’t expecting somebody so…” she gestured at Max vaguely with one hand. “So… young. I thought you’d be, like, in your 40s or something. How old  _ are _ you?”

“How old are  _ you _ ?” countered Max without missing a beat. Chloe was momentarily worried that she’d offended her, but then she saw the other girl’s lips quirked up in a smile.

“Twenty-four,” she replied.

“I’m twenty-three,” Max told her, and Chloe’s jaw dropped again.

“No way! That’s like, you must be some kind of prodigy or something,” she said. “You’re pulling my leg, right? Because, your work, it’s… I’ve never seen anything like it. The stuff you can do is amazing.”

The other girl smiled, looking almost bashful at Chloe's praise. “Maybe,” she said, walking around Chloe in a circle, “But we’re not here to talk about me. So, let’s talk about you, Chloe. You want a tattoo?”

Chloe nodded vigorously. “Hell yes. I want a sleeve -- I mean, I’ve wanted one for years, and ever since I saw your work, I knew it had to be you. I was thinking of something like the blue jay design you did,” she said, gesturing to the drawing that was pinned to the mirror.

Max tsked at her. “You know that I never repeat a design, right?”

“I know that, but I was thinking, like, as a jumping off point…” If Chloe was honest, she didn’t care what was on the tattoo, as long as Jane Doe designed it.

Max made a thoughtful noise, tilting her head as she scrutinized Chloe critically. She felt like she was a mannequin in a store, or a specimen under a slide, the way the other girl’s thoughtful blue eyes felt like they were seeing straight through her. Max’s gentle hands took her right arm -- the one she wanted the tattoo sleeve on -- and lifted it, looking at it with a slight frown. As she released it, Chloe found her heartbeat was hammering in her throat. She stood frozen, silently awaiting judgment.

“...All right. That should do fine.” Max smiled up at her. “Okay, I’ll do it. I look forward to working with you, Chloe.”

For a few seconds, Chloe couldn’t believe what she was hearing; then elation bloomed in her chest. “Really? You’ll really take me on?” She couldn’t resist the urge to give a victorious fist pump. “Yessss!”

“Don’t get too excited, yet. I haven’t even started working on the design,” Max told her, looking at Chloe over her shoulder as she crossed the room. She stood on her tiptoes to grab a jacket off the hook by the door and shrug it onto her shoulders. “Now, do you want lunch?”

“Uh -- whaa??” Chloe asked, Max’s question catching her off guard.

Max shrugged, taking Chloe’s speechlessness in stride. “I just got out of a three-hour-long session with a client, and I haven’t eaten since seven in the morning, so I’m starved. There’s a nice place down the street, so we can continue this over sandwiches.” She opened the door and tilted her head, indicating that Chloe should follow. Not knowing what else she should do, Chloe followed.

 

\---

 

That strange sequence of events led to Chloe sitting together with her art idol in a booth in an old-timey diner. The place had a nostalgic feel as though it hadn’t changed since the fifties, with chrome bar stools and even a retro-styled jukebox. Chloe watched Max, a.k.a Jane Doe, chowing down on a BLT, and wondered how this was her real life. Not thirty minutes ago, she’d been fantasizing about meeting this mysterious famous artist, and now, here she was, dripping ketchup onto the table between them. Chloe picked at her own basket of sweet potato fries, marveling at the surreality of it all.

Max put down her sandwich and used a napkin to delicately clean up the stray crumbs. Even though she ate enough food for somebody twice her size, she still had a particular, deliberate way of going about life, a careful artistry to her every action. Chloe mentally chastised herself; it was probably unprofessional to be checking out her tattoo artist so openly. She was pretty sure she wouldn’t be having these stupid thoughts if the girl wasn’t so goddamn cute. As it was, Chloe was having a hard time keeping it together in her presence.

“So, Chloe, tell me about yourself,” Max said suddenly, sipping at her milkshake with a small smile on her face.

Chloe blinked in surprise at the direct question. “What’s there to know? I’m from some nowhere town on the coast. I’m just another kid playing at being an adult, trying to get by in this crazy, fucked-up world,” she said. “I work at a skate shop during the day, and some nights I bartend at this total dive bar in the arts district. It’s a living.”

“Come on, I’m gonna need a bit more than that,” said Max, and again Chloe felt her bright blue eyes scrutinizing her. “Do you have friends? Family? A partner?”

“Uh, not that I’m not flattered by your interest, but… why?” she asked. The girl’s intensity was a bit overwhelming; she wasn’t accustomed to anybody paying this much attention to her.

“Well, you know I personalize each of my tattoos to the client,” Max said as she stole one of Chloe’s sweet potato fries. “So, the more I know about you, the better idea I’ll have for what to make of your design.”

...Oh, that was right. They were still technically in a consultation right now. “Well, I'm single, if that's what you're asking," she said with a crooked smile. "I uh... well, I've got a few friends here and there. There was this girl from my hometown, who... uh, never mind all that actually," Chloe said, quickly doubling back on thoughts of Rachel. She didn't want to dump all her emotional baggage on this girl she'd just met and wanted to impress. 

Max looked curious, though. "Was she someone important to you?"

Chloe nodded. "Yeah, we moved out here together. But she skipped town half a year ago, with her boyfriend. We uh, don't really talk much anymore." Bit of an understatement; she'd burned that bridge so thoroughly, it would be a miracle if they ever spoke again.

The other girl nodded, and Chloe got the impression she'd grasped more about the situation than she'd let on, somehow. She watched as Max paused in her lunch to idly trace the outline of the spiral on the back of her right hand with the index finger of her other hand. A nervous habit? She didn't seem at all nervous though. Quite to the contrary, she seemed totally at home in her element, as though she spoke to clients over lunch every day. Come to think of it, she probably did; Chloe had no reason to believe her case was special.

Max leaned back in her booth and fixed Chloe with her intense blue gaze again. "What about your family? Any siblings? Are you still in contact with them?"

This was definitely the weirdest consultation she’d ever done, not that she minded at all. “No siblings, it’s always been just me. My mom still lives in the town where I grew up, with my stepdad,” she said. She’d been a real shit to David in her teenage years, but time and distance had tempered their relationship. And then, because for some reason she felt like this other girl needed to be told all of her secrets, she told her, “My real dad… died, when I was young.”

Max’s brow furrowed. “How young were you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I was thirteen.”

“Wowsers. I'm sorry, that must have been really rough,” Max said, and Chloe did a double-take. Did she actually just use the word ‘wowsers’? Who  _ was _ this chick?  _ She’s the best tattoo artist on the entire goddamn West Coast _ , Chloe reminded herself. She looked up into Max’s unwavering stare; the other girl’s expression was serious, and Chloe could tell she was deep in thought.

"Yeah..." Chloe broke eye contact with Max, looking down at the table. "It definitely fucked me up for a good number of years. But I survived, and I'm better now, I think."

Silence stretched between them. Chloe still had half of her fries left, but the serious talk had dampened her appetite.

Finally, Max spoke again. “Have you ever had a near-death experience, Chloe?”

Chloe blinked. What kind of a question was that? She was caught so off-guard that she answered honestly. “Uh, yeah actually, when I was nineteen. There was this -- this storm.”

Max’s eyes widened. “A storm?”

Chloe nodded. “It was like it came outta nowhere. I was on the beach, and the winds were so strong I could barely stand up. I was just trying to get to my car, or get to shelter, when I saw this massive black shape flying towards me through the air. It was a fallen tree, and I was positive it was gonna crush me. I… must have blacked out for a minute, because things went a bit crazy and I saw some weird shit, but when I came to, the tree had fallen away and I was alive, so I could get in my car and drive away.” She gave a shrug. “I guess something in the universe must’ve decided I was worth keeping around, for whatever reason.”

The other girl looked particularly concerned. It made Chloe feel a little uneasy; the last person she shared all these things with had been Rachel. “Do you remember what you saw, right at the moment you thought you were gonna die?”

“Come to think of it... yeah, I do," she said. "It was all pretty hazy, like a dream, but I do remember parts of it. I remember… falling, and landing in a field of blue flowers, only they weren’t actually flowers, they were butterflies with bright blue wings, thousands of them. And I heard a woman’s voice telling me to look up, and I saw this deer, and I knew that it was telling me to follow it, so I did. It led me to the top of the hill where there was a bright light, shining from all directions at once, and then I was back in my body again. I know, it sounds like a total acid trip, but I swear I was stone-cold sober at the time.”

“I believe you,” Max told her. She had pushed aside her plate and sandwich wrapper and taken out a small sketchbook. She was drawing something, but it was blocked by her arm at the angle where Chloe was sitting, so that she couldn’t see. Finally, she turned it around, allowing Chloe to see what she’d sketched. Perched on the page was a drawing of a butterfly, looking as though it was ready to fly away at any moment. “Is this the kind of butterfly you saw in your dream?”

Chloe’s jaw dropped. The level of realism was unbelievable. This girl had drawn it all from memory? Shaking her head in disbelief, she said, “Yeah, that’s exactly how it looked, wow. How do you  _ do _ that?”

Max shrugged, and closed her moleskine notebook. “I’ve been told it’s a gift,” she said, smiling her secretive smile. Chloe felt a dizzying head rush as she looked at her. There was something strange about this girl, more strange than Chloe had ever imagined when she’d only known her as Jane Doe. A million questions were rolling around in Chloe’s mind, but she was having difficulty forming any of them into sentences. Finally, she blurted,

“Where did you learn to draw like that?”

“Hmm,” Max made a small noise in her throat and tilted her head in thought. “I taught myself, I guess?”

“No way,” Chloe said, astounded. “You didn’t go to, like, art school or anything?”

“Oh, sure, I did,” she said, “for a few years, anyway. I didn’t like it much, though. They wanted me to do fine art, painting, that sort of thing. But I’ve always liked body art the most.” She traced a finger along the spiral tattoo on the back of her right hand again. That was the third time Chloe had seen her do that. “There’s something to the permanence of a tattoo. It’s always there with you, wherever you go, and it changes alongside you.”

“Yeah,” Chloe said, smiling. “I can't  _ wait _ to get your ink on my arm. I know it’s going to look amazing.”

Max said nothing but smiled back, meeting Chloe’s eyes with her own. She placed her notebook and things back into her bag and stood up from the table. “I’ll waive your consultation fee if you pick up the bill for our lunch,” she told Chloe, a playful look in her eye.

“Wha -- seriously? Okay, sure thing,” Chloe said, surprised, and then looked at the receipt and gave a start. “Wait a minute, three milkshakes? When did you drink  _ three entire milkshakes _ ?”

She laughed a bright laugh. “You already promised, so no take-backs!”

“All right, all right,” Chloe said, rolling her eyes as she took care of the bill. The two of them stepped outside the diner and onto the sidewalk. Max slung her bag over her shoulder and turned to face Chloe.

“Our time for today is up,” she told her. “I have to meet with another client in a few minutes, but I should have some sketches finished for your tattoo in about a week or so. Here, can you give me your phone for a sec?”

“Sure thing,” Chloe said, handing it over and watching as the smaller girl entered in her contact details and sent a text to herself.

“There,” she said, handing the phone back to Chloe. “Now we have each other’s numbers. I’ll text you when I have the draft done, so that you can come in and take a look at them and let me know what you think, and then we can schedule your first ink session.”

“Yeah! Absolutely,” Chloe said, perhaps a touch  _ too _ enthusiastically but she didn’t exactly care. Her chest thrummed in anticipation. This was real; this was actually happening. She felt a tingling sensation and goosebumps on her right arm; when she glanced down, she realized that Max was touching her skin lightly, with just the tips of her fingers. When did she get so close? She was examining Chloe’s arm and smiling that smile of hers again. Chloe figured she must already be imagining what image she’d paint on the canvas of Chloe’s skin…

Max pulled away. “I’ll see you next week,” she said, and turned to walk briskly back in the direction of the tattoo parlor.

Chloe stood on the corner outside of the diner and watched her go, feeling dazed and more than a little entranced already. Wow, okay, so that… happened. Plus, she totally gave Chloe her number just now. She stared at the phone in her hand and tried to process the fact that she now had  _ Jane Doe _ ’s number in her phone.

For the rest of the week, she’d have a hard time keeping thoughts of Max out of her head.


	2. Lighthouse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who commented on the first chapter! I love reading all your messages, it's the highlight of my day. Things're just getting started, so enjoy the ride :)

Five days later, Chloe received a text on her phone in the middle of her work shift at the skate shop. When she gave a cursory glance at the screen and saw that it was from Max, she felt a rush of excitement and joy and she immediately excused herself to the bathroom in order to read the message the other girl had sent.

**From: Max** ****  
_ Hi Chloe, I’ve got some sketches ready for you. _ _  
_ _ Could you come by the shop today or tomorrow evening to look them over? _

Chloe’s fingers were flying over the keyboard as she responded,

**From: Chloe**   
_ yeah ill be there tonight what time is good? _

After a minute, her phone vibrated with a reply:

**From: Max**   
_ I finish with my last client at 8, can you come then? _

**From: Chloe** ****  
_ fo sho, you can count on me _ **  
** _ im not one to leave a pretty girl waiting _

**From: Max**   
_ Great! See you then. :-) _

**From: Chloe**   
_ omg you just used emoji i cant believe u r for real _

**From: Max**   
_ :-P _

She pocketed her phone, an irrepressible smile on her face. She wasn’t sure what she was more excited for: the chance to see what designs Jane Doe had prepared for her, or the prospect of meeting Max again. What was it about that girl that made her occupy Chloe’s thoughts and dreams ever since they’d met? Why had she snapped awake in the early hours of the morning, with the image of Max's doe-eyed stare burned into the backs of her eyelids? Chloe liked to think that she was a reasonable person, but this obsession she had was bordering on creepy. Still, there was something about the other girl that had sunk hooks deep into her subconscious. Something almost familiar about her, like a distant, long-forgotten memory...

She shook her head. No, that was impossible. Max was just a cute, weird, talented girl, and Chloe was projecting. The shitty fallout from what had happened between her and Rachel was still getting in the way of her acting like a normal human being. She’d go to the tattoo parlor after work, look at the sketches, and get through a normal interaction without acting odd, clingy, or creepy. She’d fucked it up once before; she promised herself it wouldn’t happen again.

Still, though…  _ Max _ … her smile returned as she let out a happy sigh. Geez, she had it bad already.

 

\---

 

Although Chloe was technically supposed to stay at the shop after her shift was over to close up, she mumbled some excuse about an unmissable appointment and, with enough pleading and cajoling, her manager let her skip out early. Grabbing her favorite skate deck, a custom board she’d designed and built herself, she rode to the nearest light rail station and hopped on the train. As she sat on the train, earbuds in and skateboard across her lap, she speculated what the tattoo’s design would include. Based on the sketch Max had done for her in the diner, it would probably involve at least one butterfly, although the artist might surprise her with something entirely different.

In retrospect, that consultation was completely not how she expected something like that to go. Ordinarily, wasn’t the artist supposed to ask her questions about what kind of image she wanted? Not… weirdly probing questions about Chloe’s personal life and history. The one question about near-death experiences had caught her off guard. Normally she hated feeling vulnerable, and that entire experience -- the storm, the fallen tree, the vision -- was something she’d hardly shared with anyone. And yet, somehow, she felt comfortable revealing the deepest parts of herself to this strange girl she’d barely just met. Was Chloe just a sucker for a pretty face, or was there something different about her? Chloe had never met anyone quite like Max.

Or…  _ had _ she? Thinking about Max conjured up a weird sense of dej á vu. But she’d certainly have remembered if they’d met before now. The other girl was one of a kind. And yet, Chloe couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew her from somewhere…

The train slowed, and a computerized voice informed her she’d arrived in the district where the tattoo shop was located. Chloe hopped off the train and onto her skateboard, riding it over the bumps and cracks in the sidewalk. She loved the feeling of wind in her hair, and the freedom of choosing her own path, living as one anonymous soul within a huge city. It was a different world from the small town where she grew up; the future was filled with possibilities.

Pulling up outside the entrance to the tattoo parlor, Chloe tucked her board underneath her arm and pushed the door open with a familiar jingle. Peeking inside, she was surprised to find that the lobby area was dark; the place was closed for work, but the door hadn’t been locked. She worried she might be too late, even though she’d showed up at 8 o'clock sharp. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she noticed a ray of light shining out into the hallway from the doorway to Max’s studio, and her fears lessened. At least  _ one _ person was still there, and she was exactly who Chloe wanted to see.

Chloe knocked at the partially-open door. “Hellooo?” she called out. “Special delivery of one Chloe Price, as requested.”

“Oh, good! Just a minute,” came Max’s voice from inside the room. Chloe heard the sound of papers being shuffled around, and then Max opened the door, spilling light into the hallway. Blinking away the brightness, Chloe drank in the sight of her. Max seemed happy to see her, but it was apparent that she’d just been through a long day. Her makeup was smudged, hair slightly frizzed and there were tired circles under her eyes. She was, of course, still utterly adorable. She smiled up at Chloe. “Come on in, I’ll show you the sketches.”

Chloe stepped inside and marveled again at the artwork on the walls. She could look at Jane Doe’s work for hours and hours and never grow bored of it… which was a good thing, because she’d have to spend hours sitting in that chair while getting her ink done. But as interesting as the art was, Chloe couldn’t keep her eyes off Max, who had retrieved a large sketchbook from her desk and was flipping through the pages.

Chloe approached, looking over Max’s shoulder at the drawings she’d made. There were doodles of bird skeletons and dandelions, a colored pencil sketch of a dragonfly that gleamed like a jewel on the page, and sketches of people -- candid ones, of people with their heads turned away, strangers in the park. With a start, Chloe recognized that one of the people in the drawings had bright blue hair, a shade she was intimately familiar with.

“Hey, isn’t that a drawing of--” she began, but Max hurriedly turned the page.

“Just warm-up sketches, that’s all,” she said, a slight flush across her cheeks. She turned the page again. “Here, this is it.”

Time seemed to freeze momentarily for Chloe as she laid eyes on the tattoo sketch, her eyes widening in astonishment. In lush colored pencil, the drawing depicted a lighthouse on a cliff overlooking a stormy sea, where a massive tornado loomed on the horizon. As she looked closer however, she realized it wasn’t a tornado but rather a vortex of butterflies, whose luminescent blue wings seemed to shine in their own light. The longer she looked, it seemed the more detailed the scene became. She could almost hear the crash of waves and feel the salty sea spray on her face. It was the same lighthouse, the same storm from her memories.

“You-- how did you--” Chloe was unable to form complete sentences for a moment. The lighthouse could have been a photograph, the way it was a spitting image of the one from back home. She hadn’t mentioned a lighthouse when she told Max her story, had she?

“Do you like it?” Max asked hesitantly.

“It’s incredible,” Chloe replied in awe. “I can’t believe it -- that’s the same lighthouse overlooking the bay where I grew up. I’ve been there lots of times. How did you know?”

Max smiled enigmatically. “A lighthouse symbolizes many things. Guidance, clarity, strength, safety. And the butterfly, well, obviously that has to do with change and metamorphosis. I thought the two of them combined made a powerful image, something that held special meaning for you.”

She was being vague again. “Yeah, but that doesn’t explain how you knew to include all these details,” Chloe said to her. “What are you, some kinda mind reader?”

Max gave a small laugh. “No, nothing like that,” she said, although Chloe was beginning to doubt that she was telling the truth. She gave a slight shiver as Max entered her personal space again and touched warm fingertips to Chloe’s right arm. She was measuring something with a roll of measuring tape. “I’m thinking of having several of the butterflies spread up the shoulder, here and here,” Max said, touching Chloe’s skin where she indicated. “I know you said you wanted just a sleeve, but I think it would look nice this way.”

“If you told me you wanted to ink me up from head to toe, I’d probably still say yes,” Chloe said honestly, although in retrospect that had probably come off sounding more than a little desperate. It got another laugh out of Max, though, so it was worth it.

Max’s smile faded and she held eye contact with her, fixing her with the same intense, penetrating gaze as before. “Chloe,” she said, “Is this tattoo what you really want? Because if your answer is yes, then there’s no going back. Although,” she added, glancing away for a second and then back, “I hope you  _ do _ say yes, because this design is… really special to me. I don’t think I could do a better job on anything else.”

“Yes,” Chloe told her immediately. “Hella yes. Absolutely.” She kept glancing back at the sketch on the page. It really was the old lighthouse, on the same cliff, and that same storm… looking at for a while caused her to shiver, conjuring up sense-memories of that day. The day she’d never forget, when everything changed… it was like Max had reached deep inside of Chloe’s core and transformed what she found there into something beautiful, powerful and magnificent. Chloe didn’t have a single doubt in her mind; she wanted that tattoo.

A bright look spread across Max’s face, joy and -- relief? No, Chloe was probably just misreading her. “That’s so wonderful,” she said, excitement in her voice. “Let’s schedule the first session for you, then. I expect this design to take me around six hours, so would you rather do it in two three-hour sessions, or three two-hour sessions?”

Chloe’s considered the question, her brow furrowed in thought. If she spread it out over multiple tattoo sessions, then it would mean she’d have to leave the tat unfinished for longer. But, it would also mean she’d get more chances to see Max. It was probably the wrong reason, but the more time she got to spend with this cute and mysterious girl, the better.

“Better make it three,” she said to Max. “I get antsy when I have to sit still for too long. My dentist hated having to deal with me when I was a kid. I tried to bite him.” She clacked her teeth and grinned wolfishly.

“I hope you won’t try to bite me, then,” Max said playfully as she pulled out a calendar.

_ Only if you want me to _ , came the flirtatious retort, which died on Chloe’s tongue as she remembered that she should probably keep things professional between them. “Don’t worry, Max, I only bite people that deserve it.”

"Then I'll do my best not to get on your bad side," she said, catching Chloe's eyes with her own. Turning her attention back to the calendar, she asked, "What days and times are good for you?"

Chloe frowned in concentration before indicating several times where she'd be free, and in just a few minutes they'd roughed out a timetable for the tattoo. It would take approximately a month to complete, and while Chloe was excited to have Jane Doe's ink on her skin, a part of her was even more thrilled to get to spend that much time with Max. 

 

***

 

Max began to close up the shop, with Chloe following awkwardly behind her. She had her phone out and was using it as a shield in order to mask the fact that she was still constantly checking the other girl out. Chloe didn't usually dig crunchy-granola hipsters, despite the fact that Portland was swarming with them. But something about Max, her delicate features or the subtle and deliberate way she moved, made her stand out; she was exactly Chloe's type. She crossed her fingers and silently prayed that Max liked girls too.

Max led her out of the studio and out the front door of the tattoo shop, motioning for Chloe to wait as she jingled a key ring to lock the door behind them. Night had fallen, and the two of them were illuminated in a pool of orange light cast by a solitary street lamp. The streets were quiet this evening, the sounds of the city a dull murmur in the background.

"So, uh--" Chloe broke the silence awkwardly, not sure where they'd go from here. "You live around here, or what?"

"I do. My apartment's about three quarters of a mile in that direction," she said, pointing. The light from the street lamp gave her upturned face a soft, golden glow.

Chloe swallowed, nervous and trying to hide it. "So, um, my shift at the bar doesn't start until eleven p.m., and, well, it can be kind of dangerous on the streets after dark, especially for a pretty-- I mean, a girl who's walking alone, so like, I don't have anything else going on right now, and, uh..." she trailed off, knowing she'd begun to ramble.

Max smiled in amusement. "Yes, Chloe, you can walk me home. I'd like that, actually."

Chloe practically sagged in relief. "Okay, great. I mean, It's not that I don't think you can take care of yourself. Hell, you're probably some kind of secret ninja badass or something. I just don't think I'd be able to sleep all that well tonight if I thought I'd left you in danger." As the words tumbled out of her mouth, Chloe worried she'd inadvertently revealed too much again -- that thoughts of Max were already playing havoc with her sleep schedule.

Max gave a bright, sparkling laugh. "It's so cute that you're that concerned for me. Like my own personal knight in shining armor," she said. Chloe's face flushed to her ears the instant Max called her cute; unable to reply, she turned away from Max and dropped her skateboard on the ground. Standing on top of it, she pushed off on her back leg and rode it in a wide circle until her head cleared. When she rejoined Max at her side, the other girl was looking at Chloe's skateboard with interest.

"Cool ride," she said approvingly, and Chloe grinned from ear to ear.

"Thanks! Built this baby myself," she said proudly, stepping off the board and picking it up to show off her handiwork underneath. "She's got a stainless steel truck with hollow kingpins, 52mm wheels, and an old school-style deck. The decal's from an artist friend of mine who sells boards and prints at the shop."

"Wow, you really know your way around skateboards. I'll have to come by your shop sometime when I'm not working."

"Yeah! Please do! I'll even give you a discount," Chloe said, a little too quickly. She couldn't help wanting to please and impress this beautiful, mysterious girl who had somehow fallen into her life.

They walked further, and as the scenery around them shifted from urban-commercial to urban-residential, there was small park off to the side of the street that caught Chloe's eye. It wasn't much to look at; not much more than a couple stairs with a handrail leading down into a children's playground. No kids were out this close to nightfall; the only sounds to be heard were from the old swingset squeaking in the warm wind.

Chloe's gaze fell on the stairs with the handrail and a reckless, stupid idea started to form in her mind. She glanced over at Max, her eyes sparking.

"Hey, Max! Wanna see something cool?" She placed her board on the ground again.

Max eyed her warily, a hint of a smile on her face. "Okay... what?"

Chloe kicked off, smiling confidently, building up speed as her board approached the concrete stairs. With a whoop, the front lip of her board sailed over the step, and Chloe was suspended in mid-air momentarily. She reached down to touch the bottom of her board for a second before landing with all four wheels on the pavement below. She dragged her heel on the ground to reduce speed, and then pivoted around in order to face Max, who was applauding.

Chloe gave a victorious fist-pump, her heart pounding. Her blush felt like it was glowing in the dim light. She collected her board and scrambled back up the stairs to Max's side. "Okay, that one was just a warm-up. Wait until you see this next one, it'll blow your freaking head off." she said, and repositioned herself on her board.

Eyeing the hand railing, Chloe did some quick mental math. She'd have to pick up enough speed to have the momentum to jump up to that railing and grind on it. She'd done dozens of jumps like this before, of course, but the jittery excitement and she was feeling made it hard to concentrate; the stakes felt a lot higher all of a sudden. Taking a deep breath, she kicked off and started to build up speed.

Something... happened.

A hand appeared on her elbow, and Chloe's board skittered to a halt. Max was by her side, although Chloe hadn't seen her begin to approach. Her grip was a lot stronger than expected, and Chloe felt a buzz, like pins and needles, where her skin was making contact. As she turned back to look at her face, Max's expression had changed from before. She looked... worried? upset?

"Chloe, wait," she said in an urgent tone. Then she relaxed. "I... I think we should just head home, ok?"

"Wha? Um, okay, if you say so..." Perplexed, Chloe stepped off her board, trying to process what had just happened. One minute, Max was cheering her on, and then seconds later her attitude had shifted completely. What was up with that?

"Were you, like, worried I was gonna hurt myself?" Chloe asked, and chuckled. "Chill out, Max, I've done this kinda stunt dozens of times."

Max smiled at her. She looked apologetic. "Yeah, I just... got worried that something would happen to you for a moment." Her gaze got intense for a moment. "You are my canvas, after all. I can't let you get damaged before my work even begins."

"Aww, you were concerned for me, that's cute," Chloe said, and blinked.

For a moment, Chloe imagined herself executing the jump. She imagined getting enough height to sail over the top, but one of her wheels catches on the railing. She imagined falling sideways, her shoulder and arm landing on the concrete steps, an uncomfortable pop as her body weight crushes them both. She imagined streaks of blood on the sidewalk.

Chloe stopped walking. Was that all just her imagination? Or was it something... else?

Max, several paces ahead of her, looked over her shoulder. "Almost there. It's just a few houses down from here."

"Cool. Guess I didn't have to fend off any vicious biker gangs or jilted ex-lovers for you, after all," Chloe said jokingly, swiftly recovering the distance between them to stand by Max's side.

Max laughed brightly. "Well, your bodyguard services were appreciated, nonetheless."

"Pleasure to be of service, Miss Doe. Here we offer quality services at a Price that can't be beat!" She executed a mock bow with her skateboard to her chest, then said, "You know, because that's my--"

"--Your last name, I know," said Max in between giggles. "Miss Chloe Price, did you just make a pun... using your own name?"

"I can't help it. It's eminently pun-able." She shrugged. "I've been on the receiving end of those all my life, so I may as well dish them out, too."

Max smiled a smile that belonged in a 'cute baby animals' video compilation, and Chloe felt like her heart was going to explode. She struggled to regain her composure as Max stopped outside one of the duplexes and retrieved her keys from her bag. Chloe cleared her throat.

"So, uh, I'll be on my way then," she said, placing her board on the ground and rolling it back and forth with her foot. "Thanks... you know, for letting me walk you home and all, and also for the tattoo design, and everything."

"Of course, Chloe," Max replied, and Chloe felt her intense stare again. "The more we can get to know each other, the better my work will be. And I know we'll spend lots of time together over the coming weeks." She reached out a hand, warm fingertips brushing against the smooth, pale skin of Chloe's forearm. The spiral tattoo on the back of Max's hand stared up at Chloe, and she felt a slight buzz of energy where skin was touching skin, just like she had felt before.

Then Max withdrew her hand, opened the door to her apartment, and flashed Chloe one final cryptic smile before stepping inside and closing the door behind her.

Dazed, bewildered, and more than a little bit infatuated, Chloe took a moment to gather herself again. Spending time with Max was like stepping sideways into a parallel dimension where it was just the two of them and no one else. Was she like this with all her clients? Or was there something special that was just between the two of them?

In a trance, her eyes wandered skyward, looking up at the moon and the stars which were just starting to come out. The light pollution wasn't so bad in this area, and the moon was particularly bright tonight. But something was strange. The crescent moon appeared doubled in the sky, as if reflected by an invisible mirror. It called to mind a silver butterfly with moon-shaped wings.

Was Chloe tripping? She rubbed her eyes, trying to clear her vision. The double moon remained, and a peculiar sense of wrongness filled her as she looked up at it. She wanted to call Max again to ask if she saw it too. Before she could, a cloud passed in front, blocking the moon from sight. The street fell into darkness and she was left wondering if all that really happened.

With a shrug, Chloe kicked off on her skateboard and rolled away into the night.


	3. Snowglobe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe confides in a friend and has a strange dream. Max begins work on the tattoo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, the latter part of this chapter contains a description of needles (specifically tattoo needles).

Several days had passed since Chloe's meeting with Max at the tattoo studio and their subsequent walk home together. Although she had yet to get any ink on her skin, thoughts of the cute and mysterious artist were a constant presence in the back of her mind, to the point where it was making it hard for her to focus at work. Not that Chloe had been particularly good at focusing before, in any case.

That night, she was cleaning up at the end of a closing shift at the dive bar where she worked, using an old rag to wipe up spilled beer and stray french fries. From the bar behind her she heard the tell-tale sound of shot glasses clinking on the bar and liquid being poured. She looked up and over her shoulder, where Victoria Chase, her co-worker and fair weather friend, was filling two oversized shot glasses with vodka.

"We're closed for the night, ya know. Are those both for you, or what?" Chloe asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Victoria rolled her eyes and slid the shot across the bar towards Chloe. "Puh-leaze. That one's yours. I've hardly seen you more in need of a drink in all the time you've been working here, not since what happened six months ago. But you've been acting weird again ever since, like, last Wednesday or whatever."

Chloe accepted the glass, swirling the liquid around inside eyeing Victoria with suspicion. "Yeah... kinda weird you noticed though. Have you been stalking me or something?"

"Pssh. As if I'd need to do that. I'm just good at reading people; some would say it's my gift," Victoria said loftily. "Besides, darling, you're an open book. You've been jittery and distracted all week long. It doesn't take a genius to notice."

Chloe sighed. "Guess I'm not as good at hiding it as I thought. Though it's still creepy how you knew that without me having to say anything."

"Take a deep breath, dear. The week's done. Drink with me?" She held her shot glass out. Chloe, feeling a slight relief, reached out her own and tilting it back and downing it in one gulp as Victoria did the same. Dragging the back of her hand across her mouth, she set the now empty shot down on the counter with a clunk.

"So... you met somebody new, is that right?" Victoria smiled.

Chloe hesitated, then realized lying about it to Victoria would be pointless. "Yeah," she admitted, feeling a mixture of anxiety. She hadn't been able to tell anyone about the things she was feeling all week. It just kinda sucked that of all the people she had left to confide in,  _ Victoria _  was her number one choice.

Victoria checked out her impeccably-manicured nails. "Thought so. Your emotions are far too easy to toy with, sweetie, you really should work on that."

"Easy for you to say," Chloe shot back. "We can't all be anti-romantics who locked up all of our feelings in an iron cage, like you did." Hers and Victoria's was a sort of antagonistic friendship, based on mutually dragging each other, but in a well-meaning way, or something. The fact that Victoria was one of the only people who had remained her friend through the fall-out with Rachel was evidence that she did not  _ actually _  delight in Chloe's suffering. Although it was sometimes hard to tell the difference.

"Hmph! I resent that. My heart cage is far more fancy than plain old iron. It's at least got velvet padding and silver trim."

"That's probably true," Chloe conceded. "You're way too much of a classy bitch for that basic shit."

"Damn straight," Victoria agreed. "But we're not talking about me right now, are we. She's a girl, yes?"

Chloe groaned and slumped on the bar. "...Yeah, she is."

"Is she another blonde? Or are you finally branching out?"

Chloe rolled her eyes. "I'm perfectly capable of dating outside of my own hair color, thanks. She's a brunette."

"Good for you. About time you started moving on from that thing with Rachel."

"Rachel and I never had a  _ thing _ ," Chloe insisted. "We were just..." Best friends? Soul mates? Two people who spent years of their lives growing up and living through life-changing events together, only to suddenly part ways, never to speak again?

"...We were close, and now we're not anymore."

"Because you caught feelings, and in the end, they screwed you over," Victoria said.

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Yeah, thanks for the reminder," she responded sarcastically. She didn't like to dwell on what happened with Rachel, although Victoria insisted on bringing up their breakup nearly every single time they drank together.

"And now you're acting different again. Which means... "

"For someone who claims to not believe in love, you sure care a lot about other people's personal lives," Chloe pointed out.

Victoria ignored what she'd said. She looked down at Chloe, raising a perfectly penciled eyebrow. "Does this one at least like women?"

"I don't knooooowww," groaned Chloe, slumping even further. "She just -- she's so -- there's something about her, she has these eyes, and when we're together it's like she knows everything about me already. And you know what's weird? I almost feel the same way. Like I've actually known this chick for years, even though we've only hung out a few times."  _ Actually, only twice. And both times were about a tattoo. But Victoria didn't need to know that. _

"She sounds... weird." Victoria was pouring herself another drink, then poured more vodka into Chloe's empty glass. "It's no good if you end up falling for another straight girl. You probably just need to let off some steam. Just do what I do when I'm too horny to think: I take my pick of the hottest bar patrons and take 'em up to my room for a night. No feelings needed."

"You wouldn't get it," Chloe said mournfully, bringing the glass up to her lips but not taking a drink. "It's not just that she's hot -- well, more cute than hot, really, but it's like everything about her is a total mystery. It's as if she  _ likes _  being vague all the time. I wanna get to know her more, but it's like every time I learn something new about her, there's a dozen more things that I don't understand."

And Chloe felt if she didn't get to the bottom of it, she might never sleep properly again. It was better to not mention the dreams to Victoria though. They'd been making it harder to sleep at night, which only added to her stress levels.

"She sounds like a witch. Are you sure she isn't a witch?"

"Huh? No, I know witches. Some witches run the book-and-crystals store down the street from my skate shop." Chloe shook her head. "She isn't one of those. But she might be literally magic."

"Wow. Your head is like, seriously in the clouds right now," Victoria teased, the corner of her mouth curled into a sort-of smile. "You've gone cuckoo for cocoa puffs over this chick. I must admit, seeing you like this is utterly fascinating."

"Uuuugggghhh," Chloe moaned inarticulately, scrunching her hands in her hair. "I just can't stop thinking about her."

"You want my advice?" Victoria tapped a manicured fingertip to her lips pensively. "I can tell my typical approach won't help here, so... just do the opposite of whatever I'd do."

"Thanks, Vic."

"Also, stalk her online if you haven't already, so you can find out what's up with her that way." Chloe didn't want to mention that she already had an extensive search history of everything related to Jane Doe, and also that Max didn't seem have any social profiles to speak of. At least, none that Chloe could track down using her internet sleuth skills. But it was difficult when Chloe didn't even know her last name.

"Roger that," Chloe said, finishing off her drink and setting it down on the counter with perhaps more force than necessarily. She wobbled unsteadily to her feet. "I should probably... yeah, I should go."

"You look like shit. Do you need me to call a cab?" Victoria's voice had the same disaffected, bored tone as usual, but Chloe detected a hint of genuine worry underneath.

"Nah, I'm good, I swear," Chloe promised, steadying her sway a bit. She walked towards the exit, leaned against the door frame and turned back to look at Victoria, who was still standing behind the bar. "Hey, uh, you know, thanks for the garbage advice and all that."

Victoria waved her away. "Just go home already, you drunk idiot."

"And whose fault is that, huh?" Chloe shot back over her shoulder. She turned towards the door, a smile on her face, and exited the bar. Talks with Victoria were like a tether to reality, a reminder that beyond her inner life, the rest of the world continued about its business. Victoria had no qualms about being brutally honest and real with her, which was refreshing at times. But this time it had done very little to shift Chloe's mind away from the subject at hand.

It was late at night, or perhaps early in the morning, and she found herself surrounded by the quiet sounds of a sleeping city. Trying not to appear too drunk, she wandered the now-familiar streets, her thoughts focusing in on Max, and Max alone.

Who was this girl?

Why did she seem so familiar?

What sort of magic was she doing to Chloe?

 

***

 

_ Chloe's back yard had a swing set, before it rusted through and got reduced to scrap metal. She would go out on it for hours and lean back, hands tangled in the chains, face tilted to the sky. Suspended as she is off the ground, she feels weightless, as if her soul was soaring freely in between the clouds and beyond. _

_ In that moment she's eight, just on the cusp of becoming a lanky teenager, yet to lose all of her baby teeth. She's just been told a joke, and laughs so hard that she snorts water out her nose. Between the burning sensation and the tears on her cheeks she's laughing, and someone is laughing with her. Gentle sounds come from near the old house: Joyce and William, talking over by the grill. The smell of hot dogs drifts through the air, making her mouth water. The cool metal of the swingset chain presses against Chloe's palms, leaving fading red impressions on her soft hands. _

_ When she glances at the person laughing with her, something slips in the image, and her memories shift. She recalls a mirror, in her bathroom, that reflected another mirror's surface. As a girl, she'd peer into the repeating reflection, seeing her face multiplied across an infinite number of parallel planes. But no matter how she craned her neck, she would never be able to see beyond that horizon in the mirror. _

_ Looking at the person-shaped space seated in the swing next to her, Chloe finds herself gazing into an infinite mirrored abyss, her own face reflected back at her at every angle. She squints, trying a new perspective, but no matter how hard she tries, the center of the mirrors eludes her. _

_ If she could just... reach out one hand and... _

 

***

 

CRASH! A loud noise from inside of Chloe's room jerked her out of her dream.

Groaning and muttering, she sat up and peered at whatever it was that caused the sound. One of her snow globes -- a memento from home -- had fallen from the shelf nearby her bed and smashed onto the floor, sending shards of glass and pooling liquid across the hardwood. She must have reached out in her sleep and dislodged it somehow.

Stepping gingerly around the shards of glass with her bare feet, Chloe swore under her breath at the rude awakening and set to work cleaning up the mess. Already the sensations from her dream were fading; she struggled to recall what it was about it that had affected her so deeply. All that she could remember was the cold press of chain links in her hand and the taste of freshly grilled hot dogs. And a person... was there another person? She couldn't remember exactly. But these sorts of intense, sense-memory dreams were becoming more and more frequent ever since that first meeting with Jane Doe.

As if on cue, Chloe's thoughts snapped to Max right away. Today she was going to the first of three tattoo sessions, meaning she'd get to spend two hours minimum together with her. Anxiety curled in her gut; she had no idea what they were going to talk about during their session. Or if they were even supposed to talk at all. Maybe Max needed to concentrate fully on the tattoo, so she couldn't afford to chit-chat. But, as Chloe recalled, Max's every motion was graceful and calculated. She didn't seem the type to make careless mistakes.

Shaking off the uneasy feeling that she'd woken up to, Chloe dressed herself in preparation for the day. She found herself choosing an old tank-top she hadn't worn in years, depicting a skull with a crown floating overhead. That had been exactly her style when she was a teenage rebel punk wannabe.

Chloe stopped in front of the mirror to put her contacts in. She finger-combed her blonde hair, remembering the time she'd first dyed it a brilliant blue. She probably still had a few bottles of Manic Panic sitting in the back of her medicine cabinet. The blue had been a harmless way of acting out, of making a statement -- because in the end, it was as impermanent as anything in her life, the bright pigment washing out into the shower drain.

A tattoo was nothing like dying her hair. She was inviting Max in, closer than any friend or lover had ever been, to make an imprint underneath her skin that would never disappear. Rather than having doubts, that thought only reaffirmed her determination. She  _ would _  get Jane Doe's artwork on her body, starting today.

She glanced to the side of her sink, where a stack of freshly-purchased tattoo aftercare products sat. She'd done her research and prepared for this. Nervous excitement bloomed within her chest and spread all the way to her fingertips. After their session today, something about her would be changed forever.

She made eye contact with herself in the mirror and rolled her eyes.  _ Get over it, Chloe, it's just a tattoo, _  she told herself.  _ There's no need to be overdramatic _ .  _ You'll only be sitting in the same room with your crush for two hours while she etches a permanent mark on your body. _

Filling her hands with warm soapy water, she washed up and started to feel normal again after the surreal start to her morning. Her stomach reminded her that she should eat something soon. With determination and newfound clarity, she packed up her things and left the small apartment in search of breakfast before her session with Max.

 

***

 

The past couple of times Chloe had been to Jane Doe's tattoo parlor, it had been nearly empty of other artists and customers. Today, as she pushed open the door with its now-familiar jingle, the space was alive with activity. Several other customers were seated in the waiting area already, flipping through tattoo photo books and indie zines that were provided for reading material. From within the artists' studios, she could hear the gentle chatter of conversation and the buzz of a tattoo gun. Faint music filtered through the air, and after a second she recognized the band: Vortex Club, an otherwise obscure local band with a significant underground following.

Hearing the familiar song gave Chloe a burst of courage. She took long strides up to the counter. The muscular man with the primordial seascape tattoo was seated behind the desk again, and he recognized her as she entered the shop with a nod of acknowledgment.

"I'm here for my appointment with Jane Doe."

He glanced at the calendar underneath his inked-up hands before nodding. "She's getting ready right now. She'll be with you in a few minutes." He gestured that she should take a seat while she waited.

Chloe nodded and sat down on one of the threadbare couches. Her curiosity pricked at her as she stole a glance at some of the other clients who were waiting for their tattoos. There was a man sitting next to her with a genuine mohawk and enough piercings to make her feel inadequate as a punk. Across the room sat an older woman with white hair wearing a dress that looked to be sewn by hand using discarded scraps of cloth. She had vivid tattoos of wildflowers running down one arm; Chloe wondered if she was there that day to complete the symmetry on the other side.

Not wanting to get caught creeping, Chloe picked up a riot grrl zine and buried her nose in it until she heard her name called.

"Ms. Price, the artist will see you now."

Chloe stood up so quickly it hardly registered in her mind. She crossed the waiting area and traveled down the hallway to the door marked with a little plaque reading "Jane Doe". She raised a fist, hesitating for a second before knocking.

"Come in!" called a familiar, high-pitched voice, and Chloe felt something flip-flop inside her chest.

Pushing open the door, Chloe stepped inside Jane Doe's studio. She tried to contain her wonderment and again failed, distracted by the stunningly detailed drawings and photographs that showcased her work on every wall. After spacing out for a moment, she brought her attention back to Max, who was standing in the center of the room, a small smile on her lips. She was dressed in an oversized t-shirt that had been artfully ripped and tied in a knot at her hip. Chloe's eyes were immediately drawn to the sliver of exposed skin by her hips, where a few ink lines were visible. She must have some sort of back tattoo, but the design was unrecognizable.

_ Stop checking her out and say something _ , Chloe's inner critic reminded her. "Uh... hey, I'm here," she said lamely, before mentally kicking herself over how uncool that sounded.

Max didn't seem to mind though. Instead, she smiled even more brightly, which caused Chloe's stomach to lurch yet again. "It's good to see you, Chloe," she said. "I've been looking forward to our first session ever since I finalized your tattoo design."

"Me too," Chloe said, nodding. "I could barely even sleep last night."  _ Also I had a really strange dream and I can't stop thinking about you all of the time. _

Max reached out a hand to Chloe's elbow and smiled a comforting smile. "Don't worry -- the hard part's over. You don't really need to do anything else now that you're here. In fact, if you wanted to fall asleep, you could totally do that." She tugged gently on Chloe's elbow, guiding her to the chair in the center of the room.

"No way could I sleep through this. I'm, like, way too wired right now." Chloe became aware of Max's hand on her elbow again. A warm, tingling energy seemed to flow out of her, and Chloe couldn't get enough of it. At Max's prompting, she climbed into the chair and settled down, trying to get comfortable.

Max took out a sanitizing pad and wiped down the length of Chloe's forearm. The chilly sensation sent shivers down her spine. "That's good," she said, "because I wanted to talk to you, and it's hard to have a conversation if one of us is asleep, of course."

Chloe's heart rate increased to the point where she was certain Max could feel it on her arm. "You wanted to talk to me?"

"Oh-- not about anything serious. I just wanted to know how you're doing."

"I'm good! I'm hella good," she said. "Just a bit nervous, I guess."

"That's totally normal. Lots of people are nervous for their first tattoo," Max replied, nodding. "Don't worry though. I won't let anything bad happen to you, so just relax, all right?"

She left Chloe's side to retrieve a sheet of paper from her artist's desk. On it was the outlines of Chloe's tattoo design: the lighthouse on the cliff, with the raging sea and a swirling vortex of butterflies. Looking at it, Chloe felt somewhat lightheaded. It was as if she could hear the crashing waves and howling winds, taste the salt in the air and feel the lightning crackle across her skin. It made her feel powerful, as immovable as the lighthouse itself.

"This is a temporary stencil that will help me lay down the initial lines," Max explained, wrapping the sheet of paper around Chloe's upper arm and using a wet cloth to soak it through. After a few moments, she peeled it away, leaving the imprint behind. The entire situation felt so intimate. She was totally at the other girl's mercy -- yet she trusted her completely.

Max returned to her desk to retrieve her tattoo gun. She attached a fresh bottle of ink and tested it on a sponge to make sure it was working properly. Chloe was hyper-aware of her presence at all times, so that when Max returned to her side, it was as though she could feel her body heat radiating outwards.

"I can tell you're overthinking this," Max said, a slightly teasing tone in her voice. "It won't hurt too much, I promise. So why don't you relax, and... tell me more about the place where you grew up?"

Chloe took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to release the tension that was wound up within her. "Okay, okay. It's not really that interesting or anything, though..."

"Au contraire," Max said, "I find you  _ very  _ interesting, Chloe." There was a slight buzz as the tattoo gun revved to life.

A scarlet blush spread across Chloe's face. She turned away to try to hide it. "I--I grew up in Arcadia Bay, down on the coast," she said, focusing her gaze on one of the designs on the wall and away from Max. "I can't blame you if you've never heard of it, though."

"Arcadia Bay, huh? Sounds... familiar." Chloe tried not to flinch as she felt the tattoo pen touch down on her arm. It wasn't all that painful, really, and of course the studio was completely sterile, so she had nothing to worry about. Still, she wouldn't say it felt comfortable, either.

"It's mostly old fishermen and--" she winced at the pricking of the needle, then continued, "businesses that are drying up 'cause all the jobs are going to Portland or Seattle. There's a private school, I guess, one of those pretentious artsy places, you know?" Chloe shook her head. "What am I saying, of course you know. You went to art school, right?"

"That's right. Not for very long, though," Max replied. "They wanted to put me on a Fine Arts track, but I wanted to do body art, and they didn't like that very much. So... I got my certification and just started working instead."

"Yeah, fuck 'em, right?" Chloe said with a nod. "You're out here following your dreams. That is  _ so _  punk rock."

Max gave a bright little laugh. "Thanks, Chloe. I'm glad I chose this, too."

"A-any time," Chloe replied. The sound of Max's laughter was doing weird things to her heart. "Uh, you might be able to tell, but I'm not really a fan of school or anywhere people are ordering me around like they know better than I do what's best for me."

"That doesn't surprise me," Max said. She had a small, fond smile on her face.

"So, yeah, eventually I just was like, 'fuck it', and me and this girl, Rachel, we got the hell out of that shithole as soon as we were able. Joyce remarried with that jerkoff, and there weren't any jobs or anything worth sticking around for, 'cept heaps of old abandoned junk and one lonely lighthouse on a cliff." she said. Then she shook her head. "Like I said, my life story is hella boring."

"Believe me, Chloe, I don't find you boring at all," said Max. Chloe glanced up at her face and their eyes locked for a moment, the other girl's light blue eyes peering deep into Chloe's own. It sent a shiver down Chloe's spine; then the pricking sensation of the tattoo gun brought her back to reality. Max's gaze returned to her work. "So, what happened next?"

"Well, we made it to Portland pretty much right before my trash heap of a car gave up the ghost, and we split rent on one room in a shitty apartment for like a year. Then... I guess things changed," Chloe said, then she looked away. "...Between us, I mean."

"You and Rachel?"

"...Yeah," Chloe admitted, feelings twisting in her stomach. Nothing involving Rachel was simple. Even after all this time, it still hurt to talk about it. That she was discussing it with her current... crush? Obsession? Whatever Max was, it only made it more awkward. "Um, it's kind of complicated..."

Max laughed gently. "Seems like it. Don't worry, I won't pry." She seemed to sense Chloe's discomfort. Something about her nonchalance helped Chloe relax, too.

"It's fine. It's practically ancient history at this point, anyway." Chloe found herself smiling too. "Things've gotten much simpler now that I have this job at the skate shop. Oh, did I tell you? My manager knows a guy who makes those trick compilation videos, you know the ones on YouTube? And he's coming through the shop later this week! I bet if I show him my moves, he'll put me in his next video!"

"That sounds really neat, Chloe!" Max said excitedly. She seemed genuinely enthusiastic, which was super cute. "I just hope you don't fall again. I wouldn't want you getting hurt or anything."

"Huh? Again? But I didn't fall before... oh! You mean on that walk we took home, right?" Chloe frowned, trying to remember. "I don't think I did, anyway... I would have remembered if I had an epic wipe-out. But I remember you were like, worried about me."

"Oh! That's right, you definitely didn't fall. S-sorry, I must have mis-remembered..." Max's voice trailed off and she fell silent, focusing on Chloe's tattoo. But now Chloe was second-guessing herself.  _ Did _  she fall off her board that night? She didn't have any obvious scrapes or bruises, and yet somehow there was a memory there, half-formed, of her tumbling off her skateboard and onto the blacktop. A lot of her memories from that night were pretty weird, though. Come to think of it, wasn't there something strange with the moon in the sky that night, too? She didn't want to bring it up now, though; she'd probably sound like a crazy person if she mentioned it.

"I-it's totally alright," Chloe said after a momentary silence. "Plus, you got all protective of me for a minute there. My hero Max!"

"I'm not a hero... but, thank you," Max said, a light blush dusting her freckled cheeks.

They fell silent for some time after that, and for a while the only sounds were the constant buzz of the tattoo gun and the acoustic indie rock that was playing, slightly muffled, throughout the entire tattoo parlor. At some point, Chloe asked Max if she knew what the band was that was currently playing, to which the other girl replied that she didn't know specifically but that they were probably local. Then Chloe asked if Max had heard of one of her other favorite local bands, Vortex Club. To her pleasant surprise, it turned out she had indeed.

"I have their album in my music collection. It's actually one of my favorite albums to listen to while working on tattoos."

"Cool!" Chloe grinned. So that was the reason they'd been playing in the lobby. "Have you seen them live yet? They do basement shows around here all the time."

"No, unfortunately... I haven't had the chance to."

"Actually, they're playing at my buddy Justin's place next Saturday," Chloe said. "If--" she began, but the words she was about to say caught in her throat as she felt a wave of nervousness pass over her. Then she steeled herself, reminding herself that life is short and chances to ask cute girls out were few and far between, and said it: "If you wanted to come, I-I could totally get you in. Justin's a cool dude, and he never says no to pretty girls showing up at his parties."

Max smiled brightly, and Chloe's heart gave a stutter. "Really? That sounds cool! I'd love to come! But um, I'm not a very good dancer..."

Chloe laughed. "Really, you can't be that much worse than the average partier at one of these things."

"Oh, but I really am, I've got no sense of rhythm at all."

"Chillax, Maximus, it's not that hard. All you gotta do is mooooove with the flow," Chloe said. She then mentally did a double take.  _ Maximus? Where did that nickname come from? _

"Alright, since you're the expert, you can teach me then," Max replied. Chloe blinked. Was she being friendly or flirty? It was impossible for Chloe to tell. Plus, with her head bowed and eyes focused on the tattoo, it was difficult to read Max's expression.

Not knowing what else to say, Chloe continued, "All right, I've got your number, so after this I'll text you the details like the time, what to wear and so on."

"Cool! I'm excited," Max said, sounding genuinely enthusiastic. "I don't get to go to these sorts of things very much..."

"Really? You?" Chloe's jaw dropped in disbelief. "But you're like... this uber-cool underground indie artist! I figured you'd be hella connected to like, whoever takes care of these kinda things. I guess somebody missed the memo. So what else do you do, then? Besides tattoos, I mean."

"Hmm... draw, and sleep, I guess?" Max said, tilting her head to one side. "I-I mean, I do other stuff! I just... well, I do sleep a lot. It helps with my focus. I meditate, too." She fell silent, concentrating on the tattoo for a minute, before saying, "Many of my tattoo designs come from dreams."

That was a bit of a strange response, but somehow it made sense to Chloe. "You dream a lot?"

"Oh, yes. Almost every night. I'm a lucid dreamer," she explained.

"I've been having some really vivid dreams lately, too," Chloe said. It was the first time she'd admitted it out loud. When she looked over at Max, the other girl had paused in her line work and was looking at Chloe with her signature intense gaze.

"That's very interesting, Chloe," she said after they broke eye contact and she returned to her work. "If you're feeling up for it, I'd love to hear more about what you're dreaming, one of these days."

"Huh? Y'know, most people think listening to other people talk about their dreams is boring," Chloe said. "Because they're a bunch of nonsense most of the time."

"I find dreams fascinating. They're like a window into your inner self."

"Really? Mine are mostly like, bits and pieces of memories from when I was a kid. I always get the impression that something's missing, but when I wake up I can't remember what it was." She recalled the abrupt awakening she'd had that morning, with the shattered snow globe. Come to think of it, how  _ did _  that snow globe fall, anyway? The shelf was just barely within arm's reach of Chloe's bed. And nothing else in her room had been moved. It was yet another strange and surreal phenomenon, like the rest of the happenings in her life. At least, within the past few weeks or so. Ever since she'd met Max...

She fell silent after that, and Max didn't reply either, deep in concentration on the tattoo. Chloe's gaze wandered across the drawings on the wall, her eyes tracing the branches of the magnificent Tree of Life drawing that hung next to the mirror. This had always been one of her favorite works by Jane Doe; she'd seen photographs of it completed as a full-back spread. The drawing up on the wall must have been the original sketch for that tattoo. Even as a drawing, the level of detail was tremendous. The tree's roots and branches formed a complex system, encompassing past, present and future; life, death, and rebirth. Like many of Jane Doe's works, it invited you in and inspired an emotional response. Chloe could get lost in the infinite fractal of its swirling branches.

Time passed. The conversation shifted from one topic to another. Max was mellow and easy for Chloe to talk to -- although Chloe couldn't help but notice that when it came to the subject of herself and her own personal history, the artist was somewhat vague, even evasive at times. She gave the impression of an intensely private person. She seemed very interested in Chloe, though, and kept asking about her past experiences, her present life in Portland, and her dreams for the future. Her interest was a bit overwhelming, at times, but Chloe found herself enjoying it, being unused to this level of attention. It helped that Max was extremely pretty, a bit flirtatious, and Chloe was weak when it came to pretty girls asking her personal questions.

In less time than she'd expected, the buzz of the tattoo gun stopped and Max stood up from her swivel chair. "Wait here," she told Chloe, and got up to fetch something from her desk. Finally able to move from her position, Chloe stretched out her arms and legs, which had started to develop pins and needles from sitting perfectly still in one place for so long. Max returned with a sanitary wipe and gently dabbed at the fresh tattoo on Chloe's forearm, the soft pad turning pink with blood. Chloe felt her face flush red; Max's face was incredibly close, her long lashes framing her eyes as she caressed Chloe's forearm tenderly.

"I've finished the line work," Max said, sounding almost shy. Fetching a mirror, she positioned it so that Chloe could see. "Here, take a look."

Peering into the mirror at her new tattoo, Chloe let out a small gasp in awe. Fine, delicate lines conveyed the dramatic scene in sweeping motions. Even without color, the lighthouse shone out over the stormy sea. A flurry of butterflies seemed ready to lift off her arm at any moment. The intricate linework left no doubt that Jane Doe was a true master of her craft; not a single stroke was out of place.

"It looks amazing," Chloe said earnestly. "I can't wait to see what it will look like in color."

Max looked delighted by the praise. "Me neither! But, you'll have to wait for this to heal first. Let me bandage you up," she said, and laid a transparent film out across the entirety of Chloe's forearm. Her fingertips left searing warm impressions behind as she used adhesive tape to secure the protection in place.

Her new ink now secure, Chloe was finally able to get up from the chair. It was a relief to finally get moving again after being seated for hours. As she approached the door, Max was listing off proper aftercare procedures, instructing Chloe to keep it out of direct sunlight, not to go swimming for at least two weeks, and to wash it by hand using unscented soap.

"...But what am I saying, I know you'll take good care of your new tattoo," she finished, giving Chloe a brilliant smile which caused her heart to lurch.

"Naturally, madame Doe," Chloe said, executing a mock bow with a flourish. "Hey, Max -- I'll see you at Justin's place this weekend, yeah?"

Max nodded. "Of course! I've always wanted to see Vortex Club play a live show. I'll be happy to go with you."

"Hella yes. I'll text you the deets as soon as I hear them from Justin," Chloe promised. "See ya later, Mad Max!"

"I'll see you soon, Chloe," Max promised with a smile and a wave as Chloe stepped out of her studio and left the tattoo parlor.

As soon as the door closed, Chloe let out a  _ whoop!  _ of excitement and pumped her fist in the air. How was her life this awesome? Not only did she have the beginnings of a  _ sick _  tattoo, but she'd just scored a date with a  _ totally cute _  girl. After all these years of the universe giving her shit, things were finally starting to look up for Chloe Price.

Chloe glanced down at her new tattoo, covered by plastic film but still partly visible. Looking at it conjured up a swirl of emotions; feelings too complex to identify. It was hers now; an integral part of who she was. She couldn't wait to show it off to people and see their reactions. Head in the clouds, Chloe got on her board and rode off to get lunch.

Caught up in the moment, she didn't think to look up above, where a large murmuration of starlings were passing overhead, thousands and thousands of birds, forming a spiralling shape against the backdrop of the clear blue sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added Victoria so that Chloe could have a familiar person to confide in, but as soon as she entered the story she took on a life of her own. She does what she wants.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who commented! More will be coming soon!


	4. Vortex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe and Max go to the Vortex Club party. Things take a turn for the strange.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up; this chapter contains booze, drugs, and rock 'n' roll, so hide your grandmas.  
> Longest chapter yet. Strap in folks, this one's a doozy.

Since moving to the city, Chloe had found herself at more than a few house parties and basement shows. Rachel was a big fan of them; somehow, she always knew where to find the best parties, people, and drugs. Chloe had never fit in with that atmosphere in quite the same way, but she went along for Rachel's sake, and usually ended up having a good time -- not counting the times where she accidentally drank too much and ended up sick in a stranger's bathroom. (That particular night wasn't one of her finer moments.) But when it was the two of them, all doors seemed to open effortlessly and the drinks flowed without end.

Since Rachel left her and Portland behind, Chloe had fewer reasons to go to parties. When she showed up to their old haunts, people would always ask where Rachel was, which was too difficult for her to answer at the time. So she started avoiding those places, not wanting to deal with the awkwardness of having to explain what had happened.

Justin's parties were different, though. As Chloe's co-worker at the skate shop, he had no idea about the connection between Chloe and Rachel, nor did he care. Justin was also probably the biggest stoner that she knew, of a permanently mellow, skater-bro disposition. His family was rich, and so he had a large house which was a frequent party spot, and a basement with a surprisingly good quality sound stage and acoustics. He probably made more money through selling weed at his parties than he did at his actual job at the skate shop. Despite, or perhaps because of this, Justin was a considerate host, friendly to almost everyone, and his parties were usually worth attending.

Tonight was an especially good night for it, with mild temperatures and an occasional warm breeze making it pleasant to spend time outside. The sun had recently gone down, and the first few evening stars twinkled between the lights of the city. It felt like half the hipsters in Portland were there tonight, and the overall atmosphere in the room could best be described as 'dank'. The haze of smoke permeated the air of the upper floors and spilled out onto the patio, where partygoers stood in multiple small circles, clutching their cheap beers and making conversation. From the stairs down to the basement came the sounds of instruments jangling and speaker feedback as the band set up and did their sound check. The vibe was mellow and relaxed, but Chloe's mind was elsewhere. She frequently checked her phone to see whether any new messages had arrived.

For what felt like the fortieth time that day, she opened up her text history with Max and scanned the messages that were there, as if reading them would reveal any additional information.

 **From: Chloe** ****  
_alright so justins party tonight is at 42 garden st_  
_starts at 8 and goes til whenever but the band probably wont start til 9-10_ _  
its free but bring some cash in case u want shitty band tshirts or whatev_

 **From: Max**  
_Cool, thanks for letting me know!_ _  
_ _I haven't been to something like this in a while. Should I wear anything special?_

 **From: Chloe**  
_hahaha thats cute max_  
_just bring ur pretty self & no ones gonna complain _  
_least of all me_  
_p.s. im the bodacious bombshell w/ the sick tattoo_

 **From: Max**  
_I don't think I'll have too much trouble finding you in a crowd ;-)_

 **From: Chloe**  
_did u just winky emoji @ me_ _  
_ _max what does that even mean???_

 **From: Max**  
_I just meant that you're super tall!_ _  
_ _I have to get ready now. I'll see you at the party!_

 **From: Chloe** **  
** _cool just hit yr girl up when ur here and ill tell justin to let u in_

 

Chloe resisted the urge to scroll all the way to the top and go through their entire message history. The atmosphere at the party was relaxed, with a low hum of excitement and anticipation as people waited for the band to begin playing, but Chloe felt like a ball of nerves waiting for Max to get there. She needed a smoke, or a drink. Whichever she could find first.

As she moved towards the upright keg of light beer, however, she caught sight of someone familiar standing next to the tap, filling up a solo cup. Her bobbed hair, immaculate makeup and form-fitting party dress gave her identity away before she turned around. Of all the people Chloe was expecting to encounter at the party, Victoria Chase was not one of them.

Chloe's breath caught in her throat. Was she ready for another interaction with Victoria right now? Speaking to her was often entertaining but invariably intense. She had this way of seeing straight through Chloe and picking her apart at the seams. Still, Victoria _was_ standing between Chloe and beer, and the desire to grab a drink overwhelmed her anxiety.

"Hey, Vic!" she called, approaching the keg. Victoria turned at the sound of her nickname, and upon seeing Chloe, a coy half-smile formed on her lips.

"Hello, Chloe," she said, arching her eyebrow. "What a pleasant surprise." Despite her words, she didn't look even mildly shocked to see Chloe.

"Wasn't expecting to see you here," Chloe said. "Do you know Justin, too?"

"We've met, but I'm not here for him. I'm here because of Vortex Club," she sniffed, "obviously."

"That's neat," Chloe said, ignoring her air of condescension. That was Victoria's usual mode, after all. "Are you like, a big fan of the band?"

Victoria hid her smirk behind a hand. "...Something like that."

"They're pretty cool. I really like their punk rock stuff, though their new folksy side is alright too I guess." Chloe motioned towards the keg. "So are you gonna let me get a drink, or...?"

"Certainly. Allow me," Victoria said, and filled a cup before handing it to her. Her gaze seemed to scan Chloe from head to toe as she passed her the beer. Chloe rolled her eyes and took a swig of the drink, which was only slightly cold and utterly devoid of flavor, but she didn't care. Her hand gravitated towards the pocket which contained her cell phone. She kept imagining the phantom vibrations of the text she was anticipating.

Victoria, with her uncanny powers of observation, seemed to detect the source of Chloe's fidgeting and asked, "So, are you here with anyone tonight?" She gave a knowing smile over the rim of her beer, and Chloe felt her stomach twist.

"Yeah. She just hasn't arrived yet. She'll be here in a few minutes though," Chloe explained.

"Soooo, who is it? Is it your mystery witch girl?"

"She's not a witch--"

"Ooooh, it totally is, isn't it? Congrats on your hot date," Victoria said, sounding pleased with herself. "I keep telling you to move on from Rachel already. It sounds like you're finally taking my advice."

"Yeah, thanks, I think," she replied. The last thing she wanted to do was to dwell on Rachel, on a night which was supposed to be a fresh start.

Unfortunately, Victoria had her own opinions, which she needed to share immediately. "Like, I don't even know what people saw in her, you know? She just used people, including you."

"That's pretty rich, coming from you," Chloe said with a snort of disbelief. She'd always gotten the sense that Victoria really disliked Rachel, for reasons beyond the fact that she broke Chloe's heart.

"Hey, when I use people, at least they _know_ I'm doing it. I don't go all artificial-sweetener on them, pretending that I like someone when in reality I'm just getting free drugs from them or whatever." Victoria swirled the drink in her cup. "Come to think of it, she ran off with that drug dealer, didn't she? Girl must've had some serious vices."

"Victoria, stop," Chloe said through grit teeth. "Can we not do this? She might've been kinda messed up, but Rachel was my _friend_."

"Was she, really? Maybe she just wanted to skip town... and you had a car."

"You don't know how it was," Chloe protested. "Between us, I mean."

"I saw how she treated you. It's a special kind of heartlessness that enables a person to string someone along for as long as she did to you."

Chloe's knuckles went white around the solo cup, which crumpled inward and sloshed some beer onto the ground. "I know you're trying to mess with me, Vic, but I really don't want to hear it. I just want to have a good time tonight at the concert."

"I know, and I'm happy for you. I really am," she said, smiling her catlike smile. Part of Chloe wanted to punch her in her perfect teeth. But another part of her knew that she was probably right, and moreover that this was just Victoria's messed-up way of being supportive.

"So, what's her name? Your magic mystery witch-girl, I mean."

"Her name's Max," Chloe said, glad to turn the conversation away from the topic of Rachel, even if it meant dwelling on her new crush. As she said her name, she became aware of a phantom prickling sensation in her tattoo. Every time she thought of Max, her thoughts would invariably stray to the ink lines on her skin. She glanced at the tattoo for a moment before meeting Victoria's eyes again and hoping the other girl hadn't noticed. Explaining the whole tattoo situation would take far too much time, and part of her was nervous about how Victoria would interpret their relationship with that new information.

"Max, huh? Kind of a strange name for a girl, don't you think?" Victoria tapped a finger to her bottom lip. "Do you think it's short for anything?"

"I, uh... maybe, but I don't think so." Chloe said hesitantly.

"Well, I suppose it could be worse. I knew a girl whose parents named her Chastity, and let me tell you she does _not_ live up to that promise. Does this Max have a last name?"

"Um... I don't... know?" Chloe said, realizing, not for the first time, that she really didn't know very much about Max at all. And yet, she felt as though their connection was deeper than merely artist and client. She'd feel foolish if she said that out loud, though.

"Well, legally speaking she has to have one. Everyone does, unless they're a hippie commune baby." Victoria finished her drink and tossed the empty solo cup into the trash. "I'd like to meet your mystery girl. She sounds interesting. You'll introduce me, won't you?"

"As long as you don't try to make a move on her..." Chloe eyed Victoria warily.

"Gasp! You wound me," Victoria said, showboating as usual. "I wouldn't dream of touching a hair on your pretty little hipster's head. Unless she really _is_ as cute as you say..."

"If you try, I will seriously kill you." Chloe wasn't sure if she was kidding or not.

Victoria looked like she was going to give a sarcastic reply when somebody tapped her on the shoulder. Some shaggy-haired stoner in a black t-shirt said something to her that Chloe couldn't hear over the din of the party. Victoria turned and said something inaudible back to him, then her eyes were on Chloe again.

"As much as I adore our little chit-chats, Chloe, I've been informed my presence is needed elsewhere," Victoria said. "But you'll have to find me and introduce me to your girlfriend when she gets here. I insist."

With a swirl of her short dress, Victoria pivoted away and followed the long-haired roadie into the crowd, leaving Chloe holding her mostly-empty solo cup, head pounding. She gave a snort of exasperation and finished the last dregs of room-temperature beer, making a face at the taste. Was keeping Victoria as a friend more trouble than she was worth? Well, Victoria seemed to like her, anyway... and Chloe couldn't afford to push away even one link in her social circle, which had shrunk drastically since Rachel left. Just once, though, she'd like to have a _normal_ conversation where she didn't feel like a patient on Victoria's operating table.

Chloe crushed the plastic cup in her hand and chucked it at a nearby garbage can, where it hit the rim, bounced off, and fell to the floor. Letting out a disgruntled huff, she turned away and went inside the house in search of Justin, because interactions with him were much lower stakes and far more likely to involve getting high.

Weaving through the crowd of flower children and unwashed hippies, Chloe scanned the room until she found the party's host. Justin was standing in a circle with a cluster of other skater bros, holding a lit joint between his fingers with a second one tucked behind his ear. As soon as he saw her, his face lit up and he beckoned her over.

"Yooo, Chloe! What's good?" he asked, a lazy grin on his face.

Chloe found herself smiling back as she stepped in the circle. "Hey, dude. Thanks for the invite. This party's legit."

"Pleasure's all mine," he drawled. He gestured towards her for the benefit of the other skaters. "Dudes, this is Chloe, who works with me at the shop. She built one of my favorite decks! So hit her up if you ever need work done on your boards."

Somebody handed Justin the lit joint, which he offered to Chloe. She accepted it gratefully and took a hit. As she exhaled the smoke from her lungs, she felt the tension lift off her shoulders. "Thanks, man, I needed that," she said, passing it on.

"No problemo, man. What are friends for, right?" He nodded, as did some of the others in the circle. His eyes fell on Chloe's forearm. "Yo, bro, is that new ink? That looks totally rad!"

Chloe's chest swelled with pride. "Yeah, I got it earlier this week. It's not finished yet though, I still have to go in again and get it colored."

"What's it s'posed to be a picture of?" asked one of the other skater bros.

"It's, uh, the lighthouse from the town where I grew up," Chloe said, feeling a bit self-conscious. "It's a custom design."

"Yo, where'd you get it done? I've been looking to get another like this," said Justin, rolling up his hoodie sleeve. The tattoo on his forearm showed a scene from the beach, with the sun setting over the ocean waves and a surfboard propped up in the sand. Underneath the image was the name of the beach and a year: Playa Linda, 2019.

"Dude, that's sweet! Mine's an original by Jane Doe. Honestly, I'm lucky I even got in for a consultation. She's super busy, and picky about her clients." She hesitated, feeling oddly protective -- but then, if she could refer Max other clients, that was just good business. "I can give you the number of the tattoo parlor if you like. There's a pretty long wait list, though..."

"Hey, did you say Jane Doe?" asked one of the other skaters, who Chloe recognized as Justin's friend Trevor. "Yo, I heard she's like, some kinda superhero. Like, if she does a tattoo on you, then whatever you want most will come true. My buddy's girlfriend's sister said it happened to her. Issat for real?"

"A superhero? Dude, you must be high. She seems like a regular tattoo artist to me," Chloe said, shaking her head. But as she said it, she knew that wasn't entirely true. Max probably wasn't a witch or a superhero -- but there was something undeniably strange about her.

As if on cue, Chloe's phone vibrated in her back pocket. She gave a start in surprise, then tried to mask it by running her hand through her hair. She fished her phone out and checked the screen, where there was a text awaiting her:

 **From: Max**  
_Made it, I think. If this is the right place...?_

Chloe sprang into action, animated by a sudden energy. Her fingers flew across the keyboard:

 **From: Chloe**  
_sweet stay where u are ill meet u out in front_

After sending her message, she turned to face Justin. "Yo. My friend is here. Is it cool if I go and let her in?"

"Any friend of yours is a friend of mine, Chlo-bro," Justin drawled, smiling his lazy smile as he exhaled a puff of smoke. "Tell 'em they're welcome to come through."

Chloe grinned, thanking him, and left the circle. She weaved through the crowd, not caring about whose elbows she bumped or whose beer she accidentally spilled on the way to the front door. This was way more important!

Finding the door, she opened it and stepped out into the night air. As she emerged from the smoky haze of the party, the first fresh breath of clear night air was like a shock to her system. The thumping bass was muffled as she closed the door, its sound replaced by the quiet noises of the city. Her eyes scanned the road for a split-second before she spotted a slight, young girl, looking beautiful and lost. An uncontrollable smile spread across her face as she leapt down the steps two at a time and approached Max like an enthusiastic puppy.

"Max! You made it!" Chloe said, jubilant. Her chest felt like it was humming with excitement.

Max looked... gorgeous. Chloe didn't really have another word for it. She looked dainty and ethereal under the streetlights. She'd done herself up a bit, with mascara on her lashes and a dusting of blush on her freckled cheeks -- or perhaps she really was blushing that brightly. She was wearing a cute floral dress with a high neck that was tied with a bow in back. A part of Chloe was disappointed that it didn't show any more skin than her work clothes had; she'd been dying to know what sort of tattoo Max had on her back.

Oh well, Chloe thought; with any luck, she'd see her out of those clothes eventually.

"Hi," said Max in her quiet, breathy voice. "I-is this okay for the party? What I'm wearing, I mean."

Chloe swallowed. "Yeah. Yeah, it totally is! You look... really nice," she told her truthfully. In a fit of boldness, Chloe reached out and took her arm, which Max accepted without protest. "If you're ready, I'll show you around the place. I got you OK'ed by Justin, by the way, although I'm sure he'd have let you in regardless. Pretty girls like you usually don't have trouble getting into parties."

"I don't get out very much, especially not to parties like this," Max said.

"Really? But you're such a hot ticket, Max! I'm not much by comparison," Chloe said with a shrug. She'd tried to look nice, but with her limited wardrobe, _nice_ meant wearing one of her only tank tops that wasn't fished from a bargain bin, and a pair of jeans with slightly fewer holes than usual.

"I think you look great, actually," Max said. "You look really cool, like you belong here."

Chloe felt herself smiling uncontrollably at the praise. She took a half-step towards Max, bringing their bodies closer together. "Okay, let's head in. It's pretty crowded inside the house, so we'll head to the backyard. You ready, Maximus?" The smaller girl nodded, looking excited but apprehensive.

"All right, follow my lead and don't let go." With determination, Chloe pushed open the door. The noise and music spilled out onto the front steps as the two women slipped inside. Keeping a gentle yet firm grip on the crook of Max's arm, Chloe guided her through the hallway, around gaggles of drunken people, past the table where people were playing beer pong, next to the couches where no fewer than three couples were avidly making out in plain view of everybody, through the kitchen where Justin and his stoner friends were pouring themselves shots, and opened the back door to step out onto the patio.

"Okay, we made it," Chloe said, angling her body so that she and Max were sharing a private space between them. Her hand slid from the crook of Max's elbow to her wrist, but didn't break contact. "Sorry it's a bit of a madhouse in there right now. Shit's about to pop off and like half the city's here tonight. You okay though?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said in a somewhat breathy voice. "I don't think I'd have been able to make it through on my own without your help though," she said, and smiled up at her. Chloe fought to suppress the high-pitched whine that threatened to escape every time she saw one of Max's smiles. It was getting unsustainable, and eventually Max would realize what she was doing to her.

"Yeah, so uh, do you want a drink? There's beer... I think. Or water I guess?" _Keep it together_.

"There's beer?" Max's earnest expression caused Chloe to break out in a fit of laughter.

"Hahaha, yeah, what kind of party would it be if there wasn't, right? Uh, but it's just PBR though. Let me grab us both some from the keg. Wait there -- don't disappear on me, all right, Magic Max?"

Max giggled. "Where are you getting these nicknames from?"

Chloe shrugged, and reluctantly let go of Max's wrist to fetch them drinks. As she wove her way through the crowd, she was scanning for Victoria, but despite her black party dress and ladykiller stilettos, she was nowhere to be found. Chloe wasn't sure whether to feel disappointed or relieved that she wouldn't have to defend Max from Vic's nosy interrogation. From the entrance to the basement, Chloe heard cymbal crashes and guitar feedback from the band doing their soundcheck. The concert was going to start soon.

Having successfully acquired two solo cups filled with beer, Chloe made her way back to where Max was waiting only to find her in conversation with an enormous, bald man with a shaggy beard. Chloe felt a spike of jealousy rise up in her, until she realized Max was examining his tattoo.

"Yeah, I _did_ get this done at Lotus Tattoo. You have a good eye, little girl," he said.

Max had her face up close to the skin of his upper arm, which depicted an eagle clutching a shield. The words ' _Honor. Dignity. Respect_ ' were displayed on a banner underneath. Chloe rolled her eyes; that sort of cliche subject matter was exactly why she'd picked a more visionary artist to design her own tattoo.

But Max didn't seem as judgmental. "I can tell based on the feathering of the shadows. This must be Angie's work. Looks like it's about... two years old? The linework is strong but it looks like the yellows are fading out. She should get some more fade-resistant dyes. I can give her a recommendation if you plan to go in for a touch-up."

Unable to hold herself back any longer, Chloe sidestepped into the conversation. "Hey, I got your drink. Can you really tell all that just by looking? That's pretty freaking incredible."

Max nodded. "Every tattoo is a story. I'm sure this one has some real significance to you."

"I got it 'cause of my buddy. It was his tattoo when we were squadmates in the Marines. He died a few years back in a car crash, so I got it to remember him by."

Chloe suddenly felt bad for thinking it was cliche, so she kept silent. Max, on the other hand, was enraptured.

"A tattoo passed down from one to the other. It's both a memorial and a legacy. That's powerful," she said, a quiet awe in her voice. "You should take good care of it."

The large man raised an eyebrow; it seemed that Max's behavior was strange not to just Chloe, but to everyone. He looked pleased though. "All right, little girl, I'll do that."

"Hey uh, I think the show's starting soon," Chloe interjected, trying to regain a foothold in the conversation. "It sounds like they're wrapping up their sound check. We should probably head down there in a few minutes."

Max smiled and sipped her beer as the large man moved away to another conversation on the patio. "I think you're right. Will everybody be able to fit down in that basement though?"

"It's a pretty big basement, so yeah, but it does get crowded down there. Will you be okay?"

"I think so, but don't ask me to dance in front of everyone," Max said, smiling and shaking her head.

"Max, I'm totally going to ask you to dance," Chloe said, taking a step closer. "Not in front of everyone though. Just with me."

"Oh," she said, a blush coloring her freckled face. "Okay."

"I'll keep a close eye on you. Make sure no punkass stoner tries to make a move on you in the mosh pit. If he does, I'll punch his lights out."

"Chloe..." Max looked like she was going to say something, but then changed her mind. "Aren't _you_ a punkass stoner?"

"You got me there," Chloe said, laughing. Finishing off her beer, she chucked the empty cup into the nearest garbage can, landing it successfully this time. She scanned the crowd one last time, but still didn't see any sign of Victoria, which was odd but not of her concern.

As if on cue, the same shaggy-haired roadie peeked out from the hatch leading to the basement. "Hey uh, sound check's done, the band says they're good to go in like ten minutes." He disappeared back down the stairs and Chloe turned to Max.

"I'd say that's our cue, don'cha think?" She offered her arm. "C'mon, let's beat the crowd and stake out a good spot."

Max accepted her arm, and Chloe felt the now-familiar thrum of energy as they made contact. Was it all in her head? It must have been a product of her hyper-fixation that every time she touched Max it was a bit like touching a live wire. She led them down the steps to the basement - steep, narrow, and dusty - and the two entered into the concrete belly of the beast. It was spacious, but the low ceiling and exposed pipes made the place feel claustrophobic. The basement was lit with flood lamps hung from the ceiling and colorful flashing LEDs closer to the sound stage. On a raised platform, the band's equipment was set up: guitar, bass, mic, drums, and keyboard. A couple of roadies were triple-checking the equipment on stage to make sure it was wired properly. Behind the stage, a black curtain separated them from the band's private waiting area.

So far as basement shows go, this one had a fairly decent setup in Chloe's opinion. She led Max to a corner next to a support pillar, where they had a nice view of the stage but they wouldn't be in the thick of the mosh pit. Chloe cast a glance back near the entrance, where one of the roadies was running the merch table. If she had cash to spare, she'd get Max a T-shirt at the end of the night.

Party guests were pouring in through the entrance, and the basement filled up quickly. As the time of the show approached, the overhead lights dimmed and the roar of the crowd fell to a murmur. Max was quiet by her side, but Chloe could sense her excitement. As the flood lights over the stage lit up and Justin walked on stage, the crowd began to clap and cheer.

"Hey, hey, dudes, I'm not the one you should be cheering for," Justin addressed them all. "I just wanna thank everyone who's here, y'all are amazing and tonight is gonna be LIT!" The crowd roared in excitement, and he continued. "So yeah, try not to break shit though 'cause somebody's gonna have to pay for it, and if you wanna make a donation to help the band, buy some CDs or whatever, they've got a merch table set up back there," he said, pointing. "Also, feel free to hit me up after the show, you know what's good. Uhh, I'm pretty sure that's everything, so..." he held out his hand. "Give it up for Vortex Club!"

A loud chord was struck and cheers filled the room. The backstage curtain parted as the band members entered the room. As the guitarist and lead singer took their places, Chloe's jaw dropped. Victoria Chase looked just as flawless on-stage as she had earlier that night. She'd added an additional layer of makeup since before, and her abnormally long eyelashes glittered in the multicolored lights of the LEDs. _That bitch_ , Chloe thought to herself, _so that's what she meant when she said she was a 'big fan of the band'._ As if Victoria could sense her thoughts, she looked straight at Chloe... and _winked_.

On the stage next to Victoria, the lead guitarist looked out at the crowd, wearing a studded jacket, a red-dyed mohawk and a permanent glower on his face. He said nothing, but played another cord as Victoria picked up the microphone. "Hellooooo Portland! Or should I say, Justin's basement," she called out, provoking another cheer. "I'm Victoria, this is Nathan, and we are Vortex Club. Let's get this party going already!"

At her words, the drummer kicked off a furious beat and they launched into a song which Chloe recognized as the title track off their most recent album. The crowd animated almost immediately, jumping and swaying to the music and mouthing the words to the song. Victoria and Nathan sang as one, their dual male/female vocals combining into an androgynous, aggressive yet seductive singular voice. It drew the listener in and made it impossible to stand still.

In all the excitement and surprise, Chloe nearly forgot that she was there with Max. As soon as she remembered, she turned to look at the smaller girl. Max was staring out at the stage, fixated as though in a trance, the red and green flashing LEDs reflected in her eyes.

Chloe nudged her with an elbow and leaned in close, so that she wouldn't have to shout over the music. "Do you know this song?"

Max shook her head no. "I only know their first album," she said into Chloe's ear. Her warm breath tickled Chloe, and despite the heat of the basement she felt a cold shiver down her spine.

"They'll probably play something from that next," she said, although she wasn't certain Max could hear her. The loud music and the noise of the crowd made it almost impossible to think, or do anything besides surrender yourself to the music. So for a minute, without worrying about the past or the future or what anybody had to think about her, Chloe cut loose. Never mind Victoria up on the stage. Never mind the partial tattoo on her arm or her painful past in Arcadia Bay or the storm or Rachel or the strange dreams. Chloe was here. Max was here. That was all that mattered.

The band wrapped up the first song and started in on the second, which was from their first album just as Chloe predicted. She heard Max give a gasp of recognition at her side. "I know this one!"

"Cool beans. Wanna dance?" Chloe smiled crookedly, offering Max an outstretched hand.

Max took it hesitantly. "Um, I'm not really sure what to do..."

"You know the song, so just follow my lead," Chloe told her, beaming. The song started with slow, heavy drum beats, so they shuffled their feet in time. Then the guitar came in, and the drum beats began increasing in speed, and their shuffle steps turned into a rapid one-two-one-two. Chloe felt the flutter of Max's heartbeat underneath the thumb on her wrist. Then the bass hit, and without a moment to even think they were jumping. Chloe sang out the words to the chorus, her voice swallowed by the deafening roar of the crowd.

In the packed heat of the dance floor, Chloe felt as though she and Max were alone. Their world felt tilted, out of step with everybody else. Max's bright blue eyes found hers, and she held her gaze for a prolonged, timeless moment. _I could kiss her,_ Chloe thought. Impulsive, but it felt almost right. Yet she still hesitated.

A deep bass rumble resonated throughout the room, shaking dust from the ceiling. Chloe didn't think much of it, but Max broke eye contact for a moment. When she looked back at Chloe, her expression had changed completely. A grave seriousness was in her eyes.

"Chloe. We need to leave." Max gripped her forearm urgently

"Huh? What--"

In that moment a number of things happened all at once.

With a squeal of metal, one of the floodlights detached from the ceiling and came crashing down onto the dance floor with a loud snap, sending shards of glass scattering across the cement. Surprised shrieks and gasps echoed among the crowd as they parted around the fallen object. The band stopped playing, confused, but the rumbling continued. It was then Chloe realized that it wasn't coming from the speakers at all, but instead from beneath her feet.

"Please, everyone needs to get out of here," she heard Max pleading by her side. Already there was a crush of people heading towards the door, and the tremors were getting more intense each passing second. Chloe, caught up in the chaos of the crowd, lost sight of Max as several dozen people tried to fit up the narrow staircase all at once. Some more sound equipment fell over with a crash, and there were murmurs and screams as people tripped and fell on the shaking ground, practically climbing over each other to get out. It was only then that it finally occurred to Chloe what was going on.

It was an earthquake. And all of them were trapped underground.

"Max!" she cried out, panic and fear in her voice. "Where are you? We gotta get out!" No one heard her yell, all sound drowned out by the rumbling earth and the groaning of the house up above. She suddenly became aware of the tons of wood, concrete, and metal that threatened to collapse on them at any moment. Her survival instincts kicked in, and she began elbowing her way through the crowd. Vaulting over the fallen merch table, she approached the exit. Then she heard another loud BANG and the crash of shattering glass as a second floodlight detached and fell to the floor, plunging the entire room into darkness that glittered with LEDs.

The floor beneath her feet felt as though it was rolling, and dust and wood splinters rained down as Chloe fought in the darkness to reach the tiny sliver of light still visible by the exit. Somebody's flailing arm smacked her in the face, and she swore loudly, covering her eye which would definitely develop a nasty bruise if she somehow managed to survive. The creaks and groans of the house grew louder, and she heard an ominous splintering sound from up above.

Chloe wasn't religious at all, but if there was a time to start praying, this was it. She extended an arm, trying to reach the light of the exit, but her legs couldn't gain traction on the shaking earth. Was she about to die here? In the panicked swirl of thoughts in her mind, her regrets in that moment were _I'll never get to see my tattoo finished_ , and _I should have kissed her_.

With a final, deafening CRASH, blackness surrounded her completely.

 

@@@

 

The first time the quake occurred, you were just as confused as everyone else. You thought the rumble was just the rumble of the subwoofer, until the band stopped playing and the shaking continued. Chloe looked at you, perplexed, disappointed you'd stopped dancing. A part of you felt like you could keep dancing with her forever.

"What the hell is going on?" the singer on stage, Victoria, said to her bandmate Nathan away from the mic. Dust and wood shavings started to rain down from the ceiling, and panic began spreading through the crowd. Something was very wrong, but you couldn't tell what just yet. As the rumbling grew louder, it clicked in your mind. Everybody in the basement was in serious danger, and you were the only one who could help them.

You have more time than the average person, so you took a moment to survey the situation, trying to keep the panic from rising in your chest and overwhelming you. There were two exits in the basement: one that led out the hatch to the back yard, and stairs that led up into the house. Everyone would probably go for the one into the back yard, because there were fewer steps and they could get outside more quickly. But in order to evacuate everyone in time, people would need to use both exits, and there couldn't be chaos, or else some people would still be trapped downstairs when the house collapsed.

 _These things are a lot easier when I'm saving just one or two people_ , you thought ruefully to yourself as you rewound time.

Back to the end of the song, you're in Chloe's arms again and her eyes were practically glowing as she looked at you. _She's really something,_ you thought to yourself for a moment, before remembering what it was you had to do.

"Chloe. We need to leave." You tightened your grip on her forearm. Her smile fell and she looked at you, perplexed and a bit hurt. _Sorry, Chloe_.

"Huh? What--" she began to say, as the flood light detached and fell from the ceiling with a loud crash, cutting the band short. Panic began to spread through the crowd again as you leapt into action. You needed to get everybody's attention, but unfortunately things were too loud and no one could hear your pleas. In the ensuing chaos, the crush of the crowd separated you and Chloe. People fell down, and screams filled the air. A second flood light detached, and the entire basement fell into near-darkness, with the only light coming from the colored LEDs up on the stage. _It's like the world's deadliest rave_ , you thought to yourself.

This approach wasn't going to work either, but you had another idea. You pushed through the crowd, using your shortness to your advantage as you dodged underneath people's arms and sidestepped out of the way, and made your way onto the stage. The band had already left at this point, so you went through the curtain and entered the "backstage" area -- which was nothing more than a private corner of the basement. That was fine by you. You needed to make an impact, make sure that people heard you, and this was the best way you could do that.

With a more concrete plan in your mind, you rewound for the second time.

This time, when you came bursting through the backstage curtain in the middle of the song, the band cut their playing short and regarded you with utter confusion. Victoria, affronted, asked "Who the hell are you?" but you ignored her and went for the microphone before anyone could stop you.

"Please, listen to me!" you said, your voice accompanied by a screech of feedback that silenced the crowd. "Everybody needs to remain calm and do exactly what I say. There's about to be an earthquake, and if we stay in here, we won't all make it out alive." Murmurs from the crowd. "There are two exits, so please start moving to the exit closest to you and head outside one at a time. Get out your phone flashlights, too, since it's about to get dark."

"What the fuck are you talking about, you crazy--" Victoria began, but she was cut short by a rumble and a crash as the flood light detached from overhead. There were screams from the crowd, but fewer now than before, which made you feel somewhat hopeful that this plan might work. Already people were moving out both exits, their phone lights on.

That being said, you turned towards Victoria. "You and your band need to evacuate, too. Forget about all your instruments and stuff and focus on getting yourselves out safely. Now, I gotta go," you said, and hurried off the stage before Victoria could respond. You scanned the crowd for Chloe, and fortunately with her height she's not difficult to find. She was looking at you like you'd grown a second head -- which made some sense, because from her end, you looked like you suddenly disappeared and reappeared backstage. Oh, this was going to take some explaining if you both managed to make it out...

"Chloe, c'mon, we gotta go," you pleaded, resting your hand on her tattooed arm. Chloe looked you in the eyes and nodded. Even as confused as she was, you could tell she trusted you completely. She reached out and grabbed your arm as well, then used her considerable height and wiry strength to force her way through the crowd and towards the exit. It was tough going, and you nearly slipped and fell on the unsteady floor, but with Chloe leading the charge the two of you reached the base of the stairs. A stranger's arms reached down, grasping Chloe's free hand and pulling the two of you up the stairs, which were shaking and developing cracks underneath your feet.

People were still pouring out of the basement door, and as soon as you made sure the two of you were clear of anything hanging overhead, you made a start to go back inside and make sure that everybody else was safe. But as you tried to pull away, Chloe's grip held fast on your arm. You turned to look at her; there was fear in her eyes, and confusion, and determination.

"Don't," she said, her voice cracking, "Please, Max, stay with me. Don't go back down there."

"Okay," you told her, breath coming rapidly. Your grip on her upper arm slid down to her hand, and you clasped her rough, broad hands in your own. You felt your hands trembling. Your spiral tattoo ached. "Okay. I'll stay here."

Suddenly, the ground gave a massive heave, and you heard a major crash come from inside the house. You overbalanced, and fell into Chloe who stumbled but did not fall. She reached out another arm to steady you, and the two of you swayed in place, holding on to each other, the only fixed points in a world that was descending into chaos.

You felt the pounding in your head that always accompanied serious unplanned time travel. _No, no, I can't fall asleep now_ , you pleaded with yourself. _There could still be people trapped down there. I need to make sure Chloe is safe--_

That was the last thought in your mind as you blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... ;)
> 
> Max PoV! Don't worry, Chloe's still the main character though.


	5. Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after. Coffee, breakfast, and a conversation.

***

 

_ Chloe stands on the edge of the cliff beside the lighthouse, rain lashing at her face. Past the railing, over the gray-green sea, the maelstrom of swirling wind and dark clouds makes its inexorable death march on Arcadia Bay. She's been here before, at this cliff, and she knows she'll return there again and again. Looking out at the storm, she feels... responsible, somehow. Like it's the price she has to pay for a crime she unknowingly committed. The injustice of it all burns far harsher than the freezing rain. All she's done, everything about who she is is insignificant against the wrath of the storm. _

_ Her rage boils over and she lets loose a scream of anger, which is immediately swallowed up by the howling wind. She yells out all the air in her lungs, and the storm rages. As she inhales, she sees a blue butterfly, its delicate wings buffeted by the harsh storm winds, alight on the railing in front of her and flutter its wings. She glances at it, then looks out across the horizon. _

_ What was a flat gray wall of stormclouds before has disappeared; the backdrop to the storm is now a cloudless starry sky. In place of the raging, turbulent sea beneath the cliff, she sees a familiar sight: from one horizon to the other stretches the skyline of Portland. She sees the light rail, the overpass, the familiar parks and neighborhoods of the city that she now calls home. As she looks down from the cliff with the lighthouse, an uneasy feeling rises in the pit of her stomach. _

_ One by one, the twinkling points of light in the sky flare up to ten times their brightness. She watches them drop, sizzling like meteors, into the heart of the city. As they strike the streets below, each falling star explodes in a burst of fire and light, lighting the city ablaze. Fire ravages her apartment block, the skate shop where she works, and the tattoo parlor, burning them all to ash. Then one of the stars glows brighter than the rest, and she realizes it's falling towards her and the lighthouse. She draws one last gasping breath as her world is engulfed in white-hot flames, and she hears a voice beside her ear. _

_ "Chloe-- I love you." _

 

***

 

The morning after the party, Chloe sat in her cramped kitchenette, crunching on dry cereal because she'd forgotten to get milk. Her thoughts were swirling rapidly in her head as she tried to make sense of last night's events.

 _The party. The concert. Victoria. Max. Dancing with Max. The earthquake. Max disappearing and reappearing. And that dream about the storm again..._ It was almost too much to process. She glanced over her shoulder to the futon in the living room, where Max's prone form was curled there, underneath Chloe's threadbare old comforter. _She suddenly collapsed during the quake,_ Chloe recalled. It had been awkward explaining to the Lyft driver that yes, her friend was unconscious due to reasons unrelated to drinking, and that no, she didn't need to go to the hospital. Probably.

Chloe hoped she'd made the right choice bringing Max back to her apartment. Although she technically knew where Max lived, and she could have brought her back home, she didn't have any key to get in. Max had stubbornly resisted all of Chloe's attempts to wake her. She remembered their discussion regarding sleep, and how Max said she regularly sleeps for many hours a day. Was that the same thing as narcolepsy? She'd have to ask Max when she awoke. The party and the disaster must've really taken it out of her.

But what _was_ all that? Chloe chewed on her lip, deep in thought. It had all been going so well up until the quake hit. Max seemed like she was having fun, the band was great -- although she was still steaming over how Victoria had never let it slip that she was a member of Vortex Club -- and Chloe was having the time of her life. _Figures the universe decided that would be the perfect time to fuck me over_ , she thought to herself. Her memories of the moments shortly before and during the earthquake were filled with chaos and confusion, and Chloe was having a hard time parsing what she saw. _Max got up on stage, didn't she? And she told everyone there was going to be a quake before it even hit. How?_

Not only that, but she had vague memories of being trapped underground while the house collapsed overhead, even though she knew they'd made it to safety. She supposed it was a nightmare she'd had after the fact. _Guess I won't be going to any more basement shows for a while_.

Opening up her phone, she scrolled through the local daily newsletter, searching for reports on the earthquake. There was nothing on the first page, nor the second. Her brow furrowed. It had been a pretty powerful tremor, didn't they monitor these things really closely? Finally she found something on the third page, but it wasn't what she expected.

 _Disaster at House Party on Garden Street_ , read the headline. The article went on to describe how a sudden collapse during a basement show had resulted in multiple injuries, but thankfully no deaths. Chloe breathed a sigh of relief. _When Max wakes up, I'll tell her she saved everyone,_ she thought and continued to read the article. By the time she got to the bottom of the page, she was frowning deeply.

' _Although an eyewitness claimed the source of the collapse was a sudden earthquake, no quakes were registered in the area at that time and the true cause of the collapse is thought to be structural failure and lack of adherence to building safety codes.'_

Chloe placed her phone down on the table and rested her head in her hands. She felt her heart pounding in the ears. What did they mean, there wasn't an earthquake? That was total bullshit! Chloe had been there; she'd felt it herself! "Fake fucking news," she muttered resentfully as she pocketed her phone and went to pour herself another cup of coffee.

As she emptied the last drops of the coffee pitcher into a mug, she heard footsteps behind her and turned to see Max standing there, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Her hand came away smudged with mascara; she was still wearing the high-backed floral dress and makeup from last night. The coil of frustration and confusion inside Chloe unwound at the sight of Max, awake and okay.

"Morning, sleepyhead," she said. She had lots of questions to ask, about to spill from the tip of her tongue, but she saw that Max was currently in no state to talk. "Coffee's ready."

"Thanks," Max said in her breathy voice, accepting the mug from Chloe. It felt mundane, almost -- like they'd had a normal date last night that ended the usual way, instead of a close brush with death due to an inexplicable natural disaster.

"The bathroom's around the corner, if you wanna freshen up," Chloe suggested, feeling slightly awkward. "There should be some spare toothbrushes behind the mirror. I'll lend you some clothes so that you can change out of your party stuff." She met Max's eyes and smiled. "Don't worry. I promise I won't peek or anything."

Max giggled. "Thank you. And thanks for the coffee. It's exactly what I need right now." She brought it to her lips and took a sip before letting out a quiet sigh. Then she and Chloe both spoke at the same time.

"I know you have questions--"

"We need to talk about--"

After a momentary pause, both girls laughed. "Let's talk later, when you're ready. I'll get you those clothes," Chloe told her. Max nodded and walked towards the bathroom, bringing her mug of coffee with her.

Chloe re-entered her room and opened her closet to search for something that could fit Max. The vast majority of her clothing was several sizes too big, or so ratty and worn-out that she wouldn't feel right about handing over to her. After a brief search, however, she laid eyes on a forgotten pile of clothes sitting in the corner of her closet. Picking it up, it seemed like just the right size for Max. Chloe was perplexed for a moment, until she remembered who those clothes had originally belonged to.

 _Rachel_ . The spare toothbrush in the bathroom cabinet was hers too. A spiteful part of Chloe thought about how it was being put to better use now. But as she picked up the shirt, remembering how Rachel had worn it during their road trip to Crater Lake, a stronger feeling of nostalgia washed over her. _Damnit, Rachel,_ she thought. _Was it all worth so little to you?_ The saddest part of losing someone so close was how even her happy memories became tinged with hurt. Chloe tucked Rachel's shirt and pants underneath her arm and left the room.

She placed them at the foot of the bathroom door and knocked on it. "Clothes're outside," she called out, and she heard a muffled "Thanks!" on the other side. After about a minute she heard the shower turn on, and Chloe sat down on the couch and pointedly tried not to picture what was going on on the other side of the bathroom door. _Max has a back tattoo... I wonder what it looks like_. Not helping. She went back into the kitchen and busied herself making scrambled eggs without any milk.

When Max emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of hot steam, Chloe had managed to scrounge together a halfway-decent breakfast out of the remnants of stuff in her fridge. In addition to the eggs, she'd found some frozen Canadian bacon and thawed it, plus she'd sliced up a potato and fried it in the bacon grease for some decent hash browns. Chloe was glad she didn't have to worry about whether Max was a vegetarian; she'd seen her decimate a BLT at the diner, so she knew the girl had an appetite. And something told Chloe that after last night's events, she'd probably want a big breakfast.

"Wowsers," Max said, coming into the kitchen. "Is that bacon? Smells delicious..."

Chloe flashed a smile and twirled her spatula. "Sure is," she said. She fetched two mismatched plates from the cabinet and placed eggs, ham and hash browns on each of them. She passed one to Max. "Figured you'd be hungry after last night."

Max nodded enthusiastically, and sat down at the table to eat. Out of the corner of her eye, Chloe watched with fascination as the other girl inhaled her breakfast so quickly you'd think she'd been starving for days.

"Whoa, did you skip dinner last night or what?" She said with a laugh.

Max swallowed and looked apologetic. "Sorry," she said. "But yeah, I'm actually really, _really_ hungry. This breakfast is seriously like, the most delicious thing ever. I bow to your superior breakfast skills."

"Oh, it's not much. Just a lil' something I picked up from working at my mom's diner. Us Price women, we don't fuck around when it comes to making breakfast." Chloe's chest swelled with pride. "Uh, I guess I should explain, my mom owns a diner back in my hometown. It's called the Two Whales."

"The Two Whales diner, huh..." Max looked thoughtful. She'd already finished her plate. Chloe quickly finished off her own portion and they dumped their dishes in the sink to wash later. The two of them returned to sit down at the table, facing one another. Chloe could swear the temperature in the room got a few degrees colder.

"So... What happened last night?" she started with.

"There was an earthquake..." Max said, looking uncertain.

"I know. I'm talking about before the quake," Chloe said, looking straight at her. "I'm talking about the part where you knew exactly what was going to happen, and you managed to save everyone. You're a goddamn superhero, Max."

"No," Max said, shaking her head. "I'm not."

"No, seriously, you are," Chloe said, getting out her phone. She pulled up the article from the _Portland Observer_. "Look. It says there were some injuries but no deaths. The house collapsed in on itself. If you hadn't warned everybody, some people wouldn't've made it out alive. I'm sure of it."

"I, umm..." Max looked uncomfortable. Chloe could tell she was hiding something.

"And you know what else is weird?" Chloe continued, scrolling to the bottom of the article. "At the end here, it says they _didn't detect any earthquakes_. How fucked up is that? What the fuck was that then, if it wasn't an earthquake? Sure felt like one to me."

"I seriously have no idea..." Max scrunched up a hand in her hair and looked askance.

"C'mon. You must know _something_ ," Chloe pleaded with her. "I-I'm just, I'm so confused, all of this weird shit keeps happening to me. I can't control any of it and I have no idea what's going on." She kicked a chair leg in frustration. "And somehow, everything seems to lead back to you, Max. Victoria said you're a witch. Some dude at the party said you grant wishes. I just saw you save fifty people like a goddamn superhero. I know there's more going on, but nobody tells me anything. I mean really... I don't even know your freaking last name!" Chloe realized she'd pushed herself up on the table and was raising her voice. She immediately settled down, feeling sheepish.

"Caulfield," Max replied in a quiet tone. "It's Max Caulfield. And I'm sorry, Chloe, but... I just can't explain everything to you right now." She stared at the table. "It's not that I don't trust you. It's just... there's a lot that I..." Her hand tightened into a fist. "I'm not ready to say yet. I'm sorry."

Chloe gave a sigh, defeated. "...Fine," she said, slumping into her chair. "Can you at least tell me how the hell you knew an earthquake was coming and how to get everybody out in time?"

"I, well..." She took a deep breath. "I've... experienced disasters like that before. I know how to recognize the warning signs, stay calm and get as many people to safety as possible."

"You've seen that sort of thing before, huh?" Chloe felt like an asshole. "I'm sorry. You looked so calm, but I guess this whole thing must've been hella traumatic for you, too. I mean, you did pass out during the earthquake as soon as we made it to safety. I had to drag you into a Lyft to get you here."

"I was wondering about that," Max said. "It was a bit strange, waking up here this morning. I don't mind though. Especially since it means I got breakfast out of it."

"Yeah, and what's even weirder is how deep asleep you were. I tried almost everything to wake you up, but nothing had any effect. It's like you pulled a total _Sleeping Beauty_."

"You tried everything, huh... what about true love's kiss?" Max gave her a small, coy smile.

Chloe flushed from head to toe. "No, I-- I didn't do anything like that, promise! Really!"

"Hmm. I would've tried," Max said, pensively. "Maybe that was why I didn't wake up. You didn't go far enough."

"Y-you're just messing with me," Chloe stuttered, because her brain was unable to process the alternative that was Max openly flirting.

"Maybe, but it's kinda fun, don't you think?" Max smiled at her. "We survived, and so did everybody else. And you just made us a dope breakfast. I think that's worth celebrating."

"Um, do..." Chloe hesitated, unsure of what she was hearing. "...you want me to... kiss you?"

"Do it," Max said. "Kiss me now."

Chloe brought their faces closer together. Max smelled like soap and Chloe's shampoo. She was wearing Rachel's old t-shirt. And she was looking at Chloe with a playful expression in her eyes. Without letting herself hesitate any longer, Chloe leaned forward and kissed her. She tasted like bacon and coffee and a pure, craveable sweetness.

The kiss lasted only a few seconds before Chloe pulled away. Her face felt hotter than the surface of the sun as she turned around and strode into the other room. She picked up a pillow and, shoving her face into it, screamed for about a minute. She heard Max's laughter from back in the kitchen. Once she'd cooled off a bit, she turned and walked back to the kitchen. She found that her knees were having a difficult time holding her upright, so she propped her body against the doorway for support.

"So..." Chloe said. "Does this mean you like me?"

"Yeah, I do," Max said, smiling back at her.

"Oh thank Christ," Chloe said, taking a seat at the table again. "I was so worried for the longest time that you didn't like girls."

"Nah, I'm totally bi," Max said, and she giggled. Chloe joined in, until the two were laughing so hard they could hardly stay upright.

"Oh my God," Chloe said to no one in particular, her face tilted towards the ceiling, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. "The totally cute and hot tattoo artist likes me back. What even is my life?"

"I guess that's a rhetorical question, right?" Max said. "For what it's worth, I think you're pretty cute, too."

"I so can barely even handle this right now," Chloe said. She steepled her fingers and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. As she exhaled, she met Max's gaze. "Max Caulfield. Will you go out with me?"

"I thought last night was already a date?"

"Well, yeah, but..." Chloe scratched her head. "It was sorta one of those ambiguous, maybe-friends-maybe-more kinda dates. You know. If I knew you thought it was a date too, I definitely woulda made out with you on that dance floor, though. No question about it."

Max giggled and blushed a bit. "Given how the night ended, maybe it's better that you didn't."

"Haha. Yeah, you're probably right," she said. "Let me make it up to you though. I'll take you on a real date, no pretense, no bullshit. Hopefully no natural disasters this time, either. What d'you say?"

"Sounds good," Max said, a brilliant smile on her face. "What kind of date?"

"I haven't figured that out yet, give me some time, geez," Chloe said, shaking her head and smiling just as much. "I'm gonna need some adjusting to get used to this shit. Oh, and..." Chloe looked down at the unfinished tattoo on her arm. "You're still gonna work on my tattoo, right?"

"Of course I am," Max said, giving a mock surprised gasp. "I'm offended you'd think I would leave my masterpiece incomplete."

"Even if the date goes south?" Chloe asked, making a mental note that Max didn't just think of her tattoo as an ordinary work, but a _masterpiece_.

"It's hard to imagine things going more south than last night, but here we are now." Max had that serious look in her eyes again. "I wouldn't stop working on it even if things did get strained between us. You are my canvas, Chloe."

"I remember you saying that before, too," Chloe said, still smiling as wide as before. Warm, fluffy feelings were filling her up and making her feel dizzy with emotion. "You're a pretty strange girl, you know that?"

"Yeah, I get that a lot."

"I mean like, good strange. Really _really_ good strange. Cute, too." Chloe caught herself. "Sorry, I'm just... still kinda in disbelief that you like me."

"Really? Chloe, have you looked at yourself lately?"

"Yeah? I'm just a high school dropout from a nowhere town on the coast. Most people wouldn't give a scruffy punk like me a second glance. Especially beautiful, famous, talented artists."

Max frowned and moved closer. "Chloe, do you really think that way about yourself? You're selling yourself short. And I'm definitely not famous, either."

"Yeah you are. I was talking about your work as Jane Doe at the party and a guy there had heard of you." Chloe laughed to herself. "You know what he said? He told me that he'd heard anyone who gets a tattoo from you has their deepest desires come true. That's nuts, right? Dude must've been high as balls."

"Haha, yeah," Max said, looking away as she spoke. Chloe noticed a flash of uncertainty in her eyes.

"Th-there's no way that's actually _true_ , is it?" Chloe studied Max's expression closely, but her face was angled away so it was hard for her to read.

"No... he was definitely making that up," Max said, although she didn't sound fully convinced of it herself. "I guess it would be true, if your deepest desire was to have a tattoo though..."

"Oh, well in that case..." Chloe glanced at her own tattoo. "It's kinda true for me. I mean, getting one of your tattoos has been something I wanted ever since I first saw your work. Uh, but you knew that already..." She drummed her fingers on the table. "Oh! Maybe my deepest desire was to go on a date with you! Mission accomplished! How about that, miss wishmaker?"

"You didn't need me to give you a tattoo to make that happen, you know," Max said.

"Uh, yeah I kind of did. Not that it isn't totally rad or anything, but would you have even noticed me if I hadn't walked into your studio that day?"

"Yes," Max said with conviction. "I absolutely would have. You're--" she hesitated. "You're more important than you know."

"What does that mean?" Chloe smiled, shaking her head. "You say the strangest stuff sometimes. Hey, is it ok if I kiss you again?"

Max giggled at her suggestion. "Normally, I'd say yes, but..." she checked her phone. "I have to get to my studio soon and work on some designs for a few of my other clients. I'm actually running a bit late right now."

"Oh! Right, sorry, I don't wanna keep you from doing your awesome thing." Chloe bottled up the disappointment she felt at the light rejection. "I can give you directions to the nearest light rail station, you can get to your shop pretty easily from there. Oh, and as for the clothes..." She gave Max one last not-at-all-discreet look up and down. "Keep them. They aren't a good fit for me anyway."

"Really? Thank you," Max said earnestly. Chloe felt a small lump in her throat at the memory of Rachel but she forced the feeling down. "Actually, thanks for... a lot of stuff. The date, the concert, bringing me here, breakfast..."

"I know how you can repay me," Chloe said, standing up from the table.

"Huh?" Max asked. Chloe crossed the space between them and leaned in to place a light kiss on Max's cheek, just touching the corner of her lips.

Chloe pulled back with a grin. "That was for luck," she said, and was rewarded with a luminescent blush across the smaller girl's cheeks.

Max stood up from the table and made her way to the door. "I'll see you again soon, Chloe," she promised. "Your first coloring session is next week. I'm looking forward to it."

"And what if I wanted to see you before that?" Chloe asked teasingly.

"Well... text me! You have my number after all." Max opened the door and took a step outside. She poked her head back in through the door one last time. "Bye, Chloe."

"Catch you on the flip side, Magic Max," Chloe called out, and she heard the door shut. She was alone in her thoughts for the first time since that morning. Alone, but with one major difference...

Chloe couldn't contain herself any longer. She let out a shriek of pure excitement. _I kissed Max! Oh my God, I actually did it! That really happened!_ The smile on her face wouldn't budge. She let out a happy sigh and slumped down in her chair. _I haven't felt like this since... well, since Rachel,_ she thought to herself, _only this is a million times better since she actually likes girls and SHE LIKES ME BACK_. Maybe Max's magical wish-granting tattoos were more than just an urban myth. At this point, Chloe was ready to believe anything.

With Max gone and today being her day off from working at both the skate shop and the bar, Chloe was left with a lack of things to do for the day. _Maybe I'll go to the park, sing songs and feed the ducks or whatever other bullshit you do when you're in love_ , she thought to herself, then what she'd just thought hit her like a ton of bricks.

 _Love._ Shit, was she in love? Chloe had no idea. Joyce always used to tell her that love was something that took time and effort. What she had with Max had happened in barely any time at all. Then again, sharing the experience of the tattoo and surviving an earthquake together was kinda like a pressure cooker for their relationship. What she felt for Max was complex, intense, and tinged at the edges with strange emotions she couldn't fully define. And then there were the vivid dreams she was having with striking regularity, including the one from last night. _I bet it all has to do with your secret, Max,_ she thought, recalling the tense conversation they'd just had where Max had dodged the question of what exactly had happened the night before.

Chloe swore she'd do everything she could to earn Max's trust. Then, maybe, she'd reveal what was _really_ going on with her.

A quick buzz of the phone in her pocket reminded Chloe of the world outside her own head. She pulled out her phone, making a face as she saw who it was that was texting her.

 **From: Victoria**  
_Can't make it to work today. Nathan broke his arm in the earthquake & I'm with him @ hospital. Cover my shift 4 me. KTHX. _

Chloe sighed. It figured the universe wasn't going to give her a free pass for the day. At least she knew Victoria probably wasn't lying to get out of her shift. Resigning herself to her fate, she texted back:

 **From: Chloe**  
_ok but u owe me_ _  
_ _p.s. we need 2 talk_

If she was honest with herself, Chloe was just salty over the fact that Victoria hadn't let on she was a member of Vortex Club. She could've seen so many free shows! Maybe she could leverage that into getting backstage at their next gig. Yeah, that could probably work... until she realized that with their lead guitarist having a broken arm and all, Vortex Club probably wouldn't be playing any shows for quite a while. Guess she'd have to find somewhere else fun to take Max on a date.

Getting that text wasn't enough to put a dent in her good mood, though. Pocketing her phone, Chloe set to work on the dishes from breakfast, and then proceeded to tackle some of the mess in her apartment. The song they'd danced together to last night kept playing in her head, and memories of that night flooded back to her.

 _Oh my God_ , Chloe froze in the middle of doing her chores. She had a sudden recollection of being trapped in the dark, crowded basement, in the chaos of the screaming crowd. She remembered the blackness punctuated with flashing LEDs and the frenzied rush to escape. She remembered praying for her life as cracks formed in the ceiling up above, rubble and wood cascading down on her and everyone else.

 _I should have died in that collapse_ , she felt with near-total certainty. _I *did* die. So did everyone in that basement._ She stared at her hands, feeling a sense of unreality as she did so. There was no explaining the memories, as fresh and real in her mind as though they had really happened the previous night.

_How am I standing here right now?_


	6. Dove

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe takes matters into her own hands and meets somebody new. Max sleeps on the job.

Something was going on with Max. Chloe knew there was more to the story that the other girl wasn't telling her just yet. But Chloe was impatient, and unwilling to wait for answers to fall into her lap, so she decided to take matters into her own hands. With several days to go before her first coloring session, she committed herself to researching Jane Doe and finding out whatever she could about the mysterious other girl who might or might not be magical.

She’d set up her laptop in a café in the arts district, not far from the tattoo parlor. The low noise of the other customers and the jolt of caffeine from her double espresso would help her focus on the task at hand, or so she hoped. Armed with all the intel she’d already collected on Max and Jane Doe, she delved back into the Internet forums where she’d first made contact with other fans of her work.

She began her search from the unofficial Facebook fan page, which boasted the most extensive library of Jane Doe’s artwork all in one place. Chloe used to scroll through the gallery again and again, admiring the diversity in Jane's artistic subjects and contemplating what tattoo she might receive if she ever managed to get one herself. She glanced down at the partial lighthouse on her arm, and marveled at how fortunate she was. _ Damn it, I’m getting distracted already. Stay focused, Chloe! _

Scrolling further down the page, she encountered a comment thread that seemed interesting. The topic read,  _ Questions about Jane Doe. _ She scanned the body of the message, hoping to find something relevant.

_ ‘Hello,’ _ it began,  _ ‘I have gotten several tattoos in the Portland area and I keep hearing about Jane Doe from the artists I have worked with in the past. I have concerns regarding this artist and her work. First of all, is it true she only does her own custom work, and won't accept outside designs? Secondly, I heard she will only do a tattoo on someone who has never gotten a tattoo before. Why would anyone have that policy? Finally, I was hoping someone who got a tattoo could share what their experience was like and if they thought it was worth it. Thanks.’ _

Chloe scrolled to the comments section, which was filled with the usual assortment of fans, trolls, and people who should never have been allowed to use a computer in the first place. Chloe seethed at the haters and trolls, who were posting derogatory comments calling Jane Doe a fraud, a bitch, and an overly pretentious hipster hack.  _ Max doesn't read these, I’m pretty sure,  _ Chloe thought, but she still felt a surge of protectiveness. She kept scrolling until she found something which seemed useful.

_ ‘I got a tattoo from Jane Doe about a year ago, and I’ll be happy to answer your questions. In regards to the first, yes, she only does her own custom designs, each one unique. So if you have a particular design in mind already, you’ll want to go elsewhere. As for your second question, it’s on a case by case basis. She is particular about which clients she picks, and she does have a preference for those who have never gotten a tattoo before, but that won't necessarily rule everybody else out. Finally, as to your question about whether it was worth it: absolutely. If you can get one I could not recommend her more highly. Getting a Jane Doe tattoo was literally life-changing for me.’ _

All of this lined up with what Chloe already knew, more or less. The only new information was the bit about preferring first-time tattoos, which although strange made a sort of sense, given her experience with Max.  _ She's so different from other artists _ , Chloe thought.  _ She wouldn't want to work on a ‘canvas’ that was already marked by somebody else _ . She focused her attention on the last sentence. Was that a case of someone saying ‘literally’ when they meant ‘figuratively’? She didn't think so, but how could a tattoo change your life?

_ Well, it can if you start dating the tattoo artist.  _ That most likely wasn't the case with this commenter though. Chloe hoped not, anyway. Max’s tattoos were beautiful, sure, but life-changing? That was a bit of a stretch. They must have had a reason for saying so, though.

Chloe leaned back in her chair, thinking hard. Maybe she was approaching this problem the wrong way. Instead of searching for proof of the supernatural in Max, it might work better if she assumed she  _ did _ have powers and worked backwards from there.

But what kind of abilities, exactly, did she have? She remembered what Justin’s friend said at the party. ‘ _ If she does a tattoo on you, whatever you desire most will come true. _ ’ Was that what happened to this person who said it changed their life? How does a tattoo grant wishes? If Max was really doing that with her artwork, then how could she know what your deepest desire was? Maybe that was the true purpose of the consultation.

_ She agreed to work on me before we even finished the consultation in the diner _ , Chloe remembered.  _ It was like she already knew who I was _ . And that was another weird thing about Max: how she seemed like she always knew what was going to happen before it did. Like during that earthquake at the party, or when she stopped Chloe from falling off her skateboard.  _ There's no way she can be that observant. _ But Chloe didn't have any kind of proof, other than her own vague and confusing memories of things that didn't even happen.

Closing the cover of the laptop, she stretched, feeling the kinks in her spine loosen as she did. All this research and thinking was hard work; the last time she could remember doing that was when Rachel helped them both get their GEDs after they dropped out of school together.

Just as she was thinking of getting herself some more espresso, she heard somebody speak from behind her.

“Um, excuse me,” said a hesitant, high-pitched voice.

Chloe turned, sitting backwards in her chair to face the person who was talking. She was a young woman, modestly dressed with her hair done up in a bun. A silver cross dangled around her neck.  _ She's cute, _ Chloe thought to herself,  _ but waaaay too preppy for me. And she's probably gonna offer to save my soul. _

"Sorry, babe, but if you're trying to sell me on Jesus, I'm all set," Chloe told her. "Try your luck with some other sinner."

The girl shook her head. “It's not about that... I wanted to ask you about your tattoo."

"Oh yeah?" Chloe glanced down on the ink lines on her arm. "Am I forfeiting my eternal soul to Satan because I got ink done?"

"No... nothing like that," the girl said. "That tattoo... it's by Jane Doe, right?"

After a moment of staring open-mouthed in surprise, a grin spread across Chloe’s face. “Yeah. It's still in progress though. You a fan?”

The shy girl nodded. “I saw you looking at some of her artwork on your computer. Sorry for spying."

Chloe relaxed. Maybe she'd judged the other girl too quickly. "It is kinda, but I'm guilty of creeping on other folks' screens sometimes too, so I don't mind. Besides, I can tell you're a fan, just like me."

The girl's eyes brightened. "Max is really something special, isn't she? I don't think there's anyone else quite like her.”

Chloe’s eyes widened. “Wait, you actually  _ know _ her?”

“Mmm-hmm. She did my tattoo about a year ago, and we've been friends ever since."

_ Holy crow, I just hit the jackpot, _ thought Chloe.  _ Talking to someone else that knows her personally is way better than sorting through anonymous comments online. _ She gestured that the girl should sit down in the chair opposite her. The other girl gathered up her skirts and sat down, offering Chloe a small smile as she did so.

"So... what's your name?" Chloe asked.

"I'm Kate. Kate Marsh," she replied.

"Chloe Price. Nice to meetcha," Chloe said, offering her hand. Kate accepted the handshake, her delicate hand impossibly soft against Chloe's own. She actually reminded Chloe of Max in a certain way.

"So..." Chloe's curiosity was getting the better of her. "You said you had a tattoo?"

Kate nodded. "I never thought I’d be the kind of person to get something like this, but..." The girl brushed her hair off her shoulder and turned around. She was wearing an open-backed dress, and on her back, clear as day was a magnificent tattoo of a dove, its lily-white wings spread across the girl's shoulder blades. It radiated a feeling of peaceful, calm protection. Chloe felt at ease just looking at it.

"It's beautiful," Chloe found herself saying without even realizing she was speaking out loud. When she realized she had spoken aloud, she immediately closed her mouth, embarrassed. Gushing openly over people's tattoos wasn't really helping her tough punk image.

Kate seemed flattered though. "Thank you," she replied. "Yours looks lovely too. I bet it will be even more wonderful when it's colored."

"Yeah, I seriously can't wait," Chloe said, excitement bubbling up in her chest. "I feel like I've been waiting my entire life to get this tattoo."

Kate peered at the tattoo closely, a tiny crease appearing in her brow as she did. "It's a lighthouse on a cliff, isn't it?"

"Yeah... actually, it's the lighthouse from the town where I grew up," Chloe said. "I don't know how she did it, though... I mean, I didn't show her a photograph of it or anything, and she came back with this design. It's like she ripped it straight outta my memories." 

"Maybe she did," Kate said.

Chloe turned to look at her slowly. This seemed important. "...What do you mean?"

"Hmm... how can I put this..." Kate stirred the spoon in her coffee cup. "Max has... this way of knowing things about you, without you needing to tell them to her first."

"I  _ know, _ right?!" Chloe exclaimed, louder than she intended, slamming her hand on the table causing the cups to rattle. When Kate looked startled, she settled down, glancing around her as she did. "...Sorry about that. It's just something I've been wondering about for a while, so it's good to hear it from somebody else, too." She looked straight at Kate. "How does she do it? How does she know that stuff about people?"

"She told me..." Kate hesitated, then continued at a lower volume, "She told me she sees things in her dreams."

_ Dreams again _ . "What kinds of things?"

"Things that happened in the past. Things that are happening right now. And things that haven't happened yet," Kate replied.

"Wait... seriously?!" Chloe ran nervous fingers through her hair, trying to wrap her mind around the idea. "So Max can see into the future? Is that what she told you?"

"Do you believe me? I know, it sounds strange..." Kate looked aside. "I haven't really told anyone else... but, you know her, too. So I think you have an idea of what I'm talking about."

"Holy shit... it makes sense, though..." Chloe stared into her empty coffee cup. She felt the puzzle pieces slotting together in her head.  _ Was that how she knew about the earthquake? _

"B-but like I said, this is just a theory!" Kate held up her hands defensively. "What Max told me was just that she sees things in her dreams. I think it's because they give her visions. And that's how she knew to come to me, when I... when I needed her the most..."

Chloe sensed there was more to the story. She leaned in with interest. "How exactly did you meet Max?"

Kate seemed hesitant, but after a momentary pause she continued, "When I first met Max... actually, it was here, in this coffee shop." She gestured around her. Chloe took in the raw-wood decor, the vintage prints on the wall, the wall-mounted containers of roast coffee from different parts of the world.  _ Yeah, this does seem like the kinda place Max would like _ , she thought.

"Makes sense," Chloe said. "This place is pretty close to her studio."

Kate nodded. "I come here a lot, anyway... but that day, I came here to escape. I was in a dark place, Chloe, when Max found me. She set me free from that darkness. I never thought I'd get a tattoo, but... what Max did was more than a tattoo. She gave me wings."

"Um... you kinda lost me."

"I..." Kate's brow furrowed. "You know, it's weird, but I... don't remember it, exactly... all the details are kinda hazy now. But I remember how I felt."

Chloe blinked.  _ How could she forget something that important?  _ "How long ago did you say this was?"

"It was about a year ago," Kate said. "We stayed in touch after she was done, though. I honestly don't think she has very many friends that are her age, since she keeps to herself mostly, but we'd always go out for tea once a week after that. She even came over to meet my new pet rabbit." She smiled her gentle smile. "Max is a sweet girl, isn't she?"

Chloe nodded, warm, fuzzy feelings for Max intermingling with her persistent curiosity. "She definitely is. ...But, uh," she said, forcing her train of thought back on track, "How 'come you can't remember it, if it was just a year ago?"

"I..." Kate's smile fell. "I'm sorry, but... it was a really difficult time for me and I just... don't want to talk about it." Kate's shoulders hunched over as her gaze fell down to her lap. Chloe saw the wing tips of the dove reaching across her shoulder blades in a protective embrace. She could see that this line of questioning was bothering Kate, but it seemed really important.

Chloe felt a low-level frustration begin to build inside of her, but she bit it back for the sake of the mild-mannered girl sitting across the table. As calmly as she could, she said, "Please, Kate. I need to know what's really going on. How did she do it? How did Max 'save' you? How can she see the future?!"

"Chloe..." Kate looked up at her, apologetic. "I don't have all the answers you seek. You'll have to ask Max about that yourself."

"But that's just it! She isn't telling me anything!" Chloe felt her irritation building despite herself. "Whenever I ask her anything about it, she dodges the question or changes the subject. I have no idea what's going on, except that I'm in the middle of it all!"

Kate reached out a dainty hand to rest on Chloe's inked arm. "I understand how confused you must feel," she said, her voice gentle and reassuring. "Things will make more sense when she finishes your tattoo... I think."

"Did things start making sense to you after that?" Chloe asked.

Kate nodded. "It's hard to explain it with words... but she has a process. You're in the middle of the process, so you can't understand the full picture in yet. In time, you will."

"Ya know, you're almost as vague as she is..." Chloe narrowed her eyes.

"In my defense, I don't understand it fully either, and it's difficult to explain. But I've told you what I know," Kate said.

"So Max can see into the future, huh..." Chloe was still trying to process the idea.

"I don't think it's just the future. I think she sees into the present and the past, too," Kate said. "Maybe doing a tattoo allows her to see into a particular person's history more closely."

"Did you," Chloe began, and then started again, "When she was doing your tattoo. Did you have weird dreams, too?"

Kate grew quiet. "When Max was doing my tattoo... I wasn't sleeping much," she said. "When I did, those dreams... they were more like nightmares."

"You didn't get, like, really vivid memories of when you were growing up?"

"No. Not really," Kate said. "But your situation is different from mine. Every time she does a new tattoo, it's unique. So it's not surprising you've got something different going on."

_ So much for that line of questioning,  _ Chloe thought. She chewed on her lip. What else could she ask Kate that would explain what was going on with Max?  _ Wait. It's not about Max exactly, but I should ask her about... _ "Hey, uh, this is probably gonna sound crazy, but... have you noticed any, like, weird weather patterns and stuff? Or like, birds acting strangely, or sudden earthquakes or whatever. Stuff you can't explain."

"Actually... now that you mention it, yes!" Kate looked excited. "It was about a month ago... I was alone so I thought I was dreaming. But I thought I saw two moons in the sky, one night."

"You saw it too?! Holy shit, I'm not crazy!" Relief washed over Chloe. Somehow, knowing that she wasn't the only one noticing this stuff felt deeply reassuring to her. "D'you think it was just like, some weird trick with the atmosphere?"

Kate shook her head. "I'm pretty sure it's a sign from God," she said, and then quickly, "I know you're not a believer. But when I saw that up in the sky, I knew that it had to mean something. It's a message to us from a higher power."

"O...kay..." It figured she'd attribute it to God; the girl was a bible-thumper after all. Still, a divine explanation beat Chloe's attempts at a scientific one, so really, Kate had this more figured out than she did. "What kinda message d'you think God or whoeverthefuck was trying to send?"

Kate shrugged. "I really don't know. I don't speak for God... I don't think anyone can truly say they do. He-- or She-- moves in mysterious ways."

_ 'She'? Guess Kate's not as orthodox as she looks. _ "I just wish they'd be a bit more specific. Can't they just, like, text me or whatever? Like, stop with all this moon-and-stars shit, just tell me what you want from me!"

Kate giggled. "You're funny, Chloe. I can see why Max likes you."

"Oh! Uhh..." Chloe felt her heart rate quicken, although she told herself that Kate had no idea she and Max were anything more than client and artist. "...I'm all right, I guess."

Kate nodded, and then stood up from her chair. "I'm glad I got to meet you today," she told Chloe. "Not to be cliche or anything, but... I think it was fate that we met here on this day."

_ Normally I'd doubt her, but given how things today have gone, she's probably right. _ "Nice talking to you too. It's nice finally meet another Jane Doe fan in person, and not online." She reached into her pocket, pulling out her smartphone. "D'you wanna, like, exchange contacts? I can let you know if, um, there's any weird shit going on with the moon? Or if I get any texts from God." 

Kate laughed and agreed, and they swapped contacts. She gave Chloe a polite wave and smile as she turned to leave, and Chloe watched the dove tattoo on her back as she exited the cafe. The door closed with a jingle, and she leaned back in her chair, alone in her thoughts once again. After a moment, she opened up her laptop.

_ Okay, that was a whole lot more intel than I expected to get today, _ Chloe thought to herself. But her search wasn't over yet. She continued to scan the comments on the page, on the lookout for anything unusual, but nothing stood out.  _ I've been over this crap a million damn times already.  _ She scrolled aimlessly, wracking her brain for any other term she could search for, something she'd gleaned from her conversations with Kate and Max in the past, when it clicked.

_ I know her last name _ , Chloe remembered with a jolt. Max had told Chloe her last name the morning after the party, right when Chloe had been expressing frustration over not knowing anything about her. In the events that had followed -- particularly the  _ kiss _ \-- it had almost slipped entirely from Chloe's mind. But, like every piece of information about Max, she'd obsessively hoarded it in her subconscious for safekeeping. She drew on that hyper-specific memory when she typed into the search bar:

_ Max Caulfield _

Her excitement quickly gave way to disappointment, as that name turned up a bunch of profiles of people unrelated to Max - mostly men.  _ Max is usually a guy's name, _ Chloe thought as she clicked back on the profile of some dude from Topeka.  _ I wonder if Max's name is short for anything. Maxwell, Maximus, Maximilian... Maxine? _

It was worth a shot. She typed the name  _ Maxine Caulfield _ and clicked search. As she scrolled past the first couple results of people that happened to have the same name, one of the hits down the middle of the page caught her attention. It was the cached version of a webpage that had been deleted years ago, although its data had been stored in the search engine's eternal, omniscient time capsule.

The webpage title was,  _ Arcadia Bay Junior High Art Club _ . There was a broken image link and a short list of names. Close to the top was the name  _ Maxine Caulfield _ .

Chloe closed her computer. She felt the blood rushing in her ears as she tried to make sense of what she'd just seen.

_ What the fuck was Max doing in Arcadia Bay? _

 

@@@

 

_ In the middle of the woods, at the end of a long, winding road nobody takes anymore and alongside a freight train track that runs once per day, you find yourself an old forgotten junkyard. Lazy afternoon sunlight streams in between the dappled tree shadows as you scour the abandoned husks of cars and old refrigerators, looking for... something. You step on the hood of a car, metal crumpling underneath your feet as you boost yourself up, across a precarious, wobbling plank, onto the deck of an old speedboat. This scrap yard is its final ocean. Your gaze sweeps across the deck, and you spot your target: a glass bottle. As your hand closes around its neck, you hear a shout from behind you and turn around. _

_ She's standing on the hood of a car. The paint peeling from its chassis is a light blue, almost as bright as the hair on her head. You can hear her calling out to you, waving something in her hand that glints in the slanted afternoon light. A pistol. You can't make out her face, nor the words she's saying to you, but you gingerly find your way down from the boat and approach her side. She instructs you to line up the bottle you found with the others, and although her voice is indistinct you do as she says. She brandishes the gun, putting on a show for you, and at your suggestion she lines up a shot. _

_ The hammer drops, and the gun's explosion echoes through the trees as time slows down to a stop. The bullet, suspended in midair. Her life, so bright and precious, at the mercy of a ricochet. The thought of losing her again sends a chill down your spine. _

_ You aren't gonna let that happen. You'll do everything in your power to protect her, and damn the consequences. _

 

@@@

 

"Max? You in there?"

A knock at the door jolted you out of the dream. Your eyes opened, and you realized you were still in your studio, having fallen asleep at your desk. The knob turned on your door and one of your fellow tattoo artists peeked her head in to check on you.

"Yeah, I'm good, Brooke. Thanks for stopping by," you said. The other woman seemed to silently appraise your disheveled hair and smeared makeup.

"Just checking. You went quiet, and I didn't hear any music, so I wondered if you'd left for the day," Brooke said. She smirked. "Rough night last night?"

"Sort of," you said. Truthfully, your sleeping spells happened regardless of whether you got enough rest the night before. It was a near-daily occurrence, although it typically only happened when you were drawing... or after you overused your Rewind.

"Cool, well, if you need coffee, I think there's some left over in the break room," Brooke said. She leaned into your studio with interest. "How's your design coming along, little miss prodigy?"

"It's not there yet. I'm running through some alternate concepts right now, but I don't think it's ready," you say, bluffing. You hope she doesn't ask to see it.

"Gotcha. Don't wanna interrupt the master in the middle of her process," Brooke said, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. You sensed that she was both in awe and a little jealous of you and your reputation. Of course, she had every right to be, since many potential clients would come to the tattoo parlor asking for you. You tried to refer them to the other artists that worked there, but many times they couldn't handle the rejection and would leave, smearing your reputation and the parlor's at the same time.

"I'll show you when it's done," you promised her. "Just needs a little more time, that's all." Brooke seemed to accept this, giving you a curt nod and backing out of your studio, closing the door behind her.

You sat back in your chair, smoothing your hands across the sheet of paper which was supposed to contain your latest tattoo design for one of your clients. Instead, the sketch on the paper below you was a different sort of intimately familiar: The blue haired girl, reclined against the cracked windshield of an abandoned car. The pistol hangs from her finger, its details accurate down to a T, even though you don't know the first thing about guns. But although you'd gotten the details of the peeling paint on the car and the spotting of the tree shadows, there was a conspicuous blank space where her face should be.

You sighed, flipping over the piece of paper as you did so. The blank-faced girl disappeared from view. She'd been appearing with increasing frequency, in place of your usual dream visions. You weren't sure whose memories it was that you were seeing -- unlike your usual lucid dream visions, where you were very often disembodied and omniscient, these felt intimately real, and moreover, the memory felt as though it belonged to  _ you _ , not somebody else.  _ Maybe it belongs to one of the other me's _ , you thought, idly tapping the pencil on the page.  _ Too bad I can't just ask her myself _ .

_ Everything happens for a reason _ , you reminded yourself. There was a purpose behind the blue haired girl showing up again and again, and a reason your dream-self felt so fiercely protective of her. This, you knew, was more important than anything. If you could figure this out, then you might get closer to understanding the answer to the questions that have pursued you your entire life: who you are, exactly, and why you were chosen to wield these powers.

This girl was the key to it all. If only you knew who she was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kate Marsh is a precious cinnamon roll, too good for this world, too pure.  
> Thanks for all your comments! I love reading your feedback and I'm looking forward to sharing more of this story with you all.


	7. Ink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max does some more work on Chloe's tattoo. Chloe takes a nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is a bit later than usual! Hope you enjoy it regardless. :)  
> Hope you like dialogue because 80% of this chapter is two characters sitting in one room talking to each other.

The following week passed in a haze of work, vivid dreams, and wondering about Max. Most of Chloe's spare thoughts were dedicated to trying to understand what Max had been doing in Arcadia Bay, and what Kate had said about her abilities to see the past and the future. Not just that, but she had to come up with a plan for their second date -- something that was suitably fun, not too high-pressure, and hopefully less life-threatening than their last date.

By the time the day arrived that she would see Max again for their second ink session, Chloe's plans had crystallized. Her idea for the date wasn't big or extravagant, but she got the feeling that the other girl would like it all the same.

Pushing open the door to Max's tattoo parlor with its now-familiar jingle, Chloe breathed in the smell of wood and paper and felt her body relax. After spending as much time in the parlor as she had, it was beginning to feel like a second home. The burly clerk greeted her with familiarity. Her former nervousness a distant memory, Chloe responded like they were old friends.

"Yo yo yo," she said, leaning on the counter. "Is Max ready yet?"

The man nodded. "Her last client just left. She's waiting for you."

Chloe's heart rate quickened as she felt the blood rising to the surface of her skin. The promise of seeing Max again was bringing back fresh memories of the last time they saw each other face-to-face.  _ Literally face-to-face _ , Chloe thought, recalling the kiss. She still wasn't entirely sure where they stood in their relationship -- whether Max was just playing around, or if she meant something more serious with her flirting -- but at the moment, Chloe didn't care. Simply being in the other woman's presence was intoxicating.

Chloe approached the door to Max's studio, with the small metal plaque that read  _ Jane Doe _ , and knocked rhythmically. "Heeeey, Magic Max! It's me!"

She heard the shuffling of papers and the sound of footsteps approaching, and then the door opened. Although she'd been mentally preparing herself all day for when she'd see Max again, the reality of her being physically in front of Chloe caused all the feelings that had been simmering underneath the surface to come surging forth once again. It was late in the day, and from Max's frizzed hair and smudged graphite marks on her face, Chloe could tell she'd been hard at work for hours. She looked up at Chloe with her blue eyes unfocused, as though in a daze, her delicate pink lips slightly parted. After a moment, though, she seemed to come to her senses and smiled.

"Chloe! It's really good to see you again," Max said. She seemed to become more animated each passing second. Chloe wondered if that excitement was due to her presence.

"Uh, yeah, same to you," She replied, unable to keep herself from smiling. God, Max was  _ adorable _ . "I've been looking forward to this all week. Sorry we couldn't hang out before -- work had me hella busy all week long."

"It's all right. I've had a lot of catching up to do, too," she said, beckoning Chloe into the studio. The place looked messier than Chloe remembered it from last time. Stray sheets of paper and stacks upon stacks of notebooks covered the desk and lined the edges of the room. Some new sketches had been added to the walls -- including, Chloe noticed, the draft sketch of her own tattoo, which had been taped to the mirror.

"I hope it's not 'cause of me distracting you or anything," Chloe quipped.

Max looked at her. "Actually... I  _ have _ been thinking all week about what happened last time."

"Oh geez, I was kidding!" Chloe leaned in closer. "So, am I that good of a kisser, or what?"

Max laughed and playfully pushed her back. "That's not what I was talking about. Although... I will neither confirm nor deny that's the case."

"Aw, come on!" Chloe pouted. "Tell me that you thought about it at least once."

Max giggled. "Fine. It's crossed my mind once or twice. Now, have a seat already, or this tattoo will never get done."

Chloe did as she was told, making sure to stretch out all her muscles fully before settling down into a comfortable position in the chair in the center of the room. Her eyes followed Max as the artist crossed back and forth, collecting her tattoo gun and bottles of ink, which she arranged in orderly fashion on a table next to Chloe's chair. She watched with rapt fascination as the artist pulled on a pair of black latex gloves, attached the ink cartridge, and tested the pen on a sponge to make sure it was working properly. She sat down next to Chloe and lifted her arm, peering at the linework intently.

"It's healed nicely," she said with approval. "I can tell you've been doing a good job taking care of it and keeping it out of direct sunlight."

Chloe nodded. "For sure. I mean, it was a bit rough for the first couple days, but I covered it up and made sure to clean it each day. You know, it's really important to me, so I've been so stoked to see it finished, you wouldn't believe it."

"Oh, you'd be surprised what I believe," Max replied, smiling her secretive smile, her singsongy voice causing a twist in Chloe's gut. She ran her smooth, latex-covered hand down the length of Chloe's arm, sending a chill up her spine. "Unfortunately, I don't plan to finish the tattoo today. I'll just be blocking in the shadows -- your final coloring session is in two weeks."

"I know, I know," Chloe said, leaning her head back against the headrest. "Still, it'll look so awesome with the shading done. And then when you add the colors -- boom! It'll totally come alive."

Max laughed a little. "All right, let's get started then. Are you comfortable?" Chloe nodded, and the artist readjusted her stool so that she was seated even closer. Chloe thought she could feel the energy radiating out from Max's body like heat from a bonfire. She wasn't a big believer in the occult -- auras, astrology and that kinda stuff -- but if auras  _ were _ real, then Max's was incredibly powerful.

The tattoo gun revved to life, and as it touched down on the skin of Chloe's forearm, she let out a slow exhale to keep from flinching. She felt the insistent pinch of the needle against her arm. It wasn't too painful -- her pain threshold was far higher than that, due to several mishaps and broken bones during her adolescence -- but it was difficult to ignore. That, and Max's presence was driving her heartbeat up into her throat. She focused on controlling her breathing in order to relax and adjust her body to the sensations.

There were a million and one things that Chloe wanted to talk to Max about, but she didn't want to lead with the heavy stuff right off the bat. Better to start with the easier conversation. "So... I'm your last client for the day, right?"

"Mmm-hmm," Max said, concentrating intently on the tattoo.

"Um, if you're not too beat from working all day, do you maybe wanna grab a bite when we're done? My treat," offered Chloe.

"I was hoping you'd ask, Chloe," Max said. Chloe glanced at her face and saw that she was smiling. "Sure, let's go out after. I'll probably be pretty hungry by then."

"Cool!" Chloe felt excitement blossom in her chest. Objective numero uno: get Max to agree to the date was a success. "I know a place that I really want to take you. It's just a few light rail stops away."

"Are you gonna tell me what it is? Or at least what kind of food they serve?"

"Nope! It'll be a mystery," Chloe replied, feeling pleased with herself. "See, I can be mysterious too, you know."

Max gave a light sigh, her breath tickling Chloe's forearm as she did so. "Chloe... it's not as if I  _ like _ keeping you in the dark about certain things. It's just..." she trailed off, concentrating on the tattoo. Chloe patiently waited for her to finish, trying not to interrupt her thoughts. Finally, she said, "Like I said, there are things that I'm not ready to talk about yet."

"But... you'll tell me eventually, won't you?" Chloe said hopefully.

"Of course, Chloe," Max replied. "I promise... when the time is right, I'll tell you everything."

"Wonder how long that'll take..." Chloe looked aside and around the room. She didn't want to appear resentful over the secrets Max was keeping. From the sound of it, they were things the artist hadn't told  _ anyone _ else, so Chloe would have to work extra hard if she wanted to be the first person to receive Max's secret.

There was a lull in their conversation after that, the only sounds in the room being the constant buzz of the tattoo gun and the soft indie music filtering in through the speakers in the ceiling. Chloe remembered how she'd heard Vortex Club playing in the lobby during their last session, which had prompted her to ask Max to the concert in the first place.  _ How strange that it all turned out like this _ , she mused to herself. From the moment she met Max, it seemed like her life was going in a different and altogether unexpected direction. Not that she minded one bit.

There was something else she needed to talk to Max about, too. "You know..." she began, "I met someone interesting the other day."

"Should I be jealous?" Max asked with a half-smile. Chloe felt the now-familiar thrill that happened whenever Max was obviously flirting.

"Don't worry, she's not my type," Chloe reassured her. "...Actually, you know her already. She has one of your tattoos."

Chloe felt Max's inking pause momentarily, then resume as though nothing had changed. "What tattoo?"

"It was a dove. Really pretty, you did a good job with the wings," Chloe said. "She told me her name's Kate Marsh."

"You met Kate?" Max's blue eyes found Chloe's for a moment, before returning to her work.

"Yeah! Actually, it was pretty funny," Chloe said, recalling their meeting. "I ran into her at a coffee shop near here. She saw my tattoo and recognized it as your work. Turns out, we're both huge Jane Doe fans. Jane-heads? Doe-votees? Whatever."

Max snickered. "Whatever you want to call yourselves is fine," she said. 

"I couldn't help but talk to her about you," Chloe admitted. "I don't know anybody else who's really met you before, so... I got curious."  _ Also she happened to appear just as I was trying to research you online _ , she remembered, but didn't say that part out loud. "She said some pretty interesting things."

"Like what?" Max asked without looking up. Chloe glanced at her. She was deeply concentrated on the tattoo, the pink tip of her tongue visible out of the corner of her mouth, a slight frown on her face.  _ She's not worried about what Kate said to me, is she? _

"She told me..." Chloe struggled to recall the conversation. "She said that you met when she was going through some really difficult stuff in her life. And somehow... you helped her through it?" Chloe shook her head. "To be honest, she wasn't super big on details, either. But she clearly respects you a lot."

"Mmm." Max gave a nonverbal reply.

"She wouldn't tell me what happened when she met you... actually, it was like she couldn't even remember it at all, even though it was only about a year ago," Chloe said. "Weird, right?"

"You sure do like to pry into other people's business," Max said, a teasing tone in her voice.

"I can't help it! Curiosity killed the Chloe and all that." She laid her head back against the headrest again. "So, are you gonna tell me what really happened?"

"If I do, will you promise not to bring it up again?" Max's words were punctuated by the buzzing of the tattoo gun. "It's personal to her and to me. But I'll tell you, if you really need to know."

"Really? You're just gonna  _ tell  _ me? To think, it could be so easy," Chloe joked. "But, yeah. I didn't want to press Kate on it, since she seemed upset, but I really, really need to know."

Max sighed. "...Fine," she said after a pause. "When I met Kate... somebody had just recently posted a video of her online."

"A... video?" Chloe's mind was reeling. "Like, a sex tape kinda video?"

"Sort of... she wasn't in her right mind when it was taken, and it was posted without her consent. She became the subject of all sorts of nasty rumors, and her family had found out and was threatening to disown her. It was bad," Max said. "Kate's a good girl. She didn't deserve any of the things that were happening to her. I saw that she needed help, so..."

"What did you do?"

"I helped her," Max said, eyes fixed on Chloe's tattoo. "I made it all go away. The video, the rumors-- everything."

"You... what?" Chloe looked down at her, perplexed. "How did you... how could you get rid of something like that?"

"That's a secret," Max said.

"God dammit!" Chloe curled her spare hand into a fist. "Figures you don't wanna tell me the whole story. Though... thanks for letting me know about Kate," she said, relaxing a little. "I won't mention it again. She sure sounded grateful to have met you."

"I'm glad I got to know Kate, too," Max said. "She really is the sweetest girl. Did I tell you she let me pet her rabbit?"

"That had better not be a euphemism," Chloe said, grinning wickedly.

" _ Now _ who's the jealous one?" Max teased. "She'd just gotten a new pet bunny, and she let me hold it while it was still a baby. It was so soft."

Chloe pictured Max holding a tiny baby bunny in her hands. "Pure," she said.

Max concentrated on the tattoo for a moment in silence. Eventually, she said, "I'm surprised that you and Kate got along. You two are so different."

"Yeah, well... we do have one thing in common," Chloe said. Max looked up at her, a question in her eyes, and Chloe laughed. "I mean, you, silly!"

"Oh! Well, that makes sense," Max said.

"She is a bit kooky though. Kept going on about Guardian Angels and signs from God and all that shit. But I guess that's just who she is. At least she's not one of those judgmental Christians, right?"

Max shook her head, smiling. "She certainly isn't. I don't think Kate has a mean or judgmental bone in her body."

"You sure know how to pick 'em, huh..." Chloe muttered, trailing off into silence. She wondered whether she'd picked Max or if it had been the other way around. Certainly she was obsessed with Jane Doe long before she'd actually met her, but at the same time it felt like Max had chosen her, too. Out of all the potential clients to receive that tattoo, it had to be Chloe.

After a few minutes had passed, Chloe asked, "How's your progress?"

"About halfway there," Max said. She used a sterile pad to wipe away excess ink and specks of blood from Chloe's arm before going right back into it. "You'll see it when I'm finished."

"I so cannot wait," Chloe said, excited. Then she dialed it back. "Of course, you should take your time. Wouldn't want any slip-ups."

"I don't make mistakes," Max said offhandedly. Chloe scrutinized her, but her statement didn't seem to be borne out of arrogance; rather, it was as though she was stating facts. When it came to tattoos, Jane Doe did not make mistakes. Ever.

"You know..." Chloe said. "Kate did say something else that was interesting."  _ Here goes nothing... _

"Hmmm?"

"She said... your tattoos all come from dreams, right?" She tilted her head to look at Max's face. The smaller girl was frowning slightly, concentrating on her art.

"That's right," said Max. "I have lucid dreams nearly every night. That's how I get inspired." She tilted her head to look up at Chloe. "What's this about?"

"Y'see, Kate had this theory..." Chloe hesitated, then she continued in a rush: "She said she thinks you can see into the past and the future when you dream, and that's how you knew she needed help when you met her."

Max was silent for a long moment. "...Interesting."

"That's all you're gonna say?" Chloe looked down at her, perplexed. "It's kinda nuts, but it makes sense to me. I mean, how else were you s'posed to know that the earthquake was gonna happen before it did, unless you could see into the future somehow?" She relaxed back into her chair and stared up at the ceiling. "Although, it would've been nicer to have some more advance warning... maybe before the show even started."

"If I'd known we were in danger then, I would have told you earlier," Max said matter-of-factly.

"So, wait, you  _ didn't _ foresee it in one of your dreams? I'm so lost..."

Max sighed. "Chloe, time is... way more complicated than it seems. There are hundreds, thousands of possible futures. If I just saw one, then... it wouldn't mean much of anything."

"Holy shit, Kate wasn't kidding," Chloe said. "You  _ can _ see the future, can't you?"

Max was silent for a long moment. Chloe felt her heart pounding in her chest. The longer the silence stretched, the more frenzied her thoughts became.  _ Oh God, did I push things too far? What if she doesn't ever wanna talk to me again? Me and my big dumb mouth... _

Finally, Max spoke. "...Both of you are very perceptive," she said, "But you are still a ways off from the truth. But since you guessed some things correctly, I'll tell you..." Her bright blue eyes locked with Chloe's. "I do see things in my dreams, stuff that I wouldn't be able to know otherwise. But I can't always control what I see... they are dreams, after all."

"No way..." Chloe's mouth hung open in disbelief. It was one thing to hear Kate's speculation, but to have it be confirmed by Max herself was something else entirely. "So that means you're like, magic, right? Like actual, real magic?"

"...Not exactly," Max said after a pause. "At least, not in the way you're thinking."

"Then what kinda magic  _ are  _ you? C'moooon, Max, please?"

Max shook her head, smiling. "That's all I'm gonna say for today."

"You're such a freakin' tease," Chloe chided, but decided to not push the issue any further.

"I know, but you love it, don't you?" Max replied, which caused Chloe to instantly blush a bright scarlet. She coughed into her free hand to mask her reaction while Max laughed quietly.

Their conversation moved into fairer waters after that. They talked about Vortex Club -- Max had begun listening to their newer album since the concert, so they compared favorite songs.

"It's too bad we only got to listen to a couple songs at the live show," Chloe said. "There's some real bangers I was looking forward to seeing them play."

"Do you think they'll play another show?" asked Max.

"I don't think so... at least, not anytime soon," Chloe said. "Victoria told me Nathan broke his arm in the quake. That, and they lost all their instruments and equipment and stuff when the house collapsed. So I'm pretty sure the band is on hold until further notice."

"That's too bad. We should do, like, a charity fundraiser for them to get their stuff back. Did you say you know the band personally?" Max asked, intrigued.

"Sort of..." Chloe said. "I know Victoria from work, but I didn't know she was in Vortex Club until I actually saw them live." She was still sort of resentful over that fact.

"That's actually really neat," Max said. "I'd like to meet her someday."

"I think she actually wants to meet you, too," Chloe said. "I... may or may not have told her about you."

"The lead singer of Vortex Club knows who I am?" Max asked, excitement in her voice.

"Well, yeah, I'd say she has a pretty good idea of who you are, after you went up on that stage, grabbed her microphone and told everyone to get the fuck out."

"Oh yeah..." Max said, looking guilty.

"Hey, don't sweat it. You saved everybody there, remember? My hero Max," Chloe told her. Max hummed contentedly at the praise. Chloe felt a warmth in her chest. If she could cause Max's happiness, that was all that mattered.

Chloe stared off into space, allowing her gaze to rest on the picture of the wall that showed the final image of her tattoo. The image looked clear as a photograph. The Arcadia Bay lighthouse shone a brilliant beam across the raging sea, its light catching on the iridescent wings of the blue butterflies. The longer she looked into it, the more real the scene became. She could almost feel the flecks of salty water and rain on her eyelashes. Chloe blinked.

***

_ "Come on, we're almost there!" she calls as they crest the top of the path. The other person with her seems in a daze, lost in an incomprehensible maze of the mind, and Chloe has to be the one to guide them around fallen trees in order to lead them up to the lighthouse. They will be safe there, she knows, but the town isn't. She casts a look back at Arcadia Bay -- the only home she's ever known -- and sees it besieged by the storm. The tornado has nearly reached the shore, and the houses and cars look like miniature models made from toothpicks. Any chance they had of saving the people there is long since gone, and now all they have left to save is themselves. _

_ Chloe doesn't know what will happen next, whether they will survive or if this is where their adventure ends, but she knows that the decision isn't hers to make. She never had any choice at all. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small, square photograph of a blue butterfly, which she solemnly hands to her companion, her best friend, her partner in time. _

***

"Whoa!" Chloe said out loud, snapping back to reality in an instant. The buzz of the tattoo gun stopped and Max looked up at her curiously.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, frowning a little. Her gaze searched Chloe's face, concerned.

"S-sorry... I must've dozed off or something... I just had this weird dream again." Chloe rubbed her forehead.  _ What the hell was that? It's like I was there, by the lighthouse. Who was there with me? Was it Rachel? That never actually happened... _

Max stood up, concerned. She placed her tattoo gun on the table and crossed over so that she was facing Chloe. She removed a latex glove and laid a soft hand on her forehead. As she did so, Chloe's heartbeat leapt into her throat. "Your temperature's normal," Max said. She looked deep into Chloe's eyes. "What did you see?"

"The storm, and the lighthouse, I-- I felt it," Chloe said, mentally grasping for the memories of her dream, which were fading away even as she tried to recall them. "I was looking at the picture of the tattoo, and suddenly it was like I was there. I saw the storm about to destroy Arcadia Bay. I felt the wind and the rain and-- it's happened before, but this time, there was someone else there with me, too. That's new."

"Did you see who it was?"

"No, I..." Chloe frowned. "It was more like... the shape of someone else. The me in my dream seemed to know who it was, but I couldn't even see what they looked like..." Chloe shook her head. "I don't get it. I keep seeing this storm, but all that stuff never actually happened, you know? There was a storm once, and I nearly died, but it wasn't like...  _ that _ . All that really happened was that it leveled a couple buildings and shit. It was bad, but not like, a fucking apocalypse." She shivered, recalling the chill of the driving rain that had soaked her to the bone. "It felt like I was seeing the end of the world.

Max gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Chloe, it's okay. You're safe, you're here with me."

"I know that... I'm just shook, is all."

Max pulled her stool up behind her and sat down. "I don't think that was a dream, Chloe..." she began. "I think it was a vision. I know, because I've been having them, too."

"You what?" Chloe searched her face in disbelief, but Max appeared to be telling the truth. "So you've been seeing the storm and shit, too? Is it like, one of your future-visions?"

"No, not the storm, but..." Max shook her head. "In my usual dreams, I'm always in control. But lately, I've been seeing these... memories, I guess... and I don't know if they're mine or someone else's. But there's this other person in them, too, and I can't tell who they are, either."

"D'you think it's the same person?" Chloe asked with interest.

"I don't know," Max said, shaking her head. "It will probably become more clear to me soon. But in the meantime..." She produced a mirror from the side table and held it up to Chloe. "I've finished shading on your tattoo. Have a look."

Chloe gazed into the mirror with fascination as she beheld the dramatic scene on her arm. Even without color, it was vividly detailed, like a black-and-white photograph. The lighthouse's beam seemed to pierce the surrounding darkness, and the crashing waves appeared animated on her skin. Each individual butterfly felt imbued with a lifelike energy, ready to lift off and fly away.

"Wow," Chloe breathed as she took it all in. "Sometimes I forget how amazing you really are."

Max appeared to blush. "Thanks. I'm glad you like it..."

"So, does this mean I can get up now?"

"Oh! Please do," Max said. She offered Chloe a hand and helped her to her feet. Chloe yawned and stretched, working out the soreness in her muscles that had developed from sitting in one place for too long. The chills from her vision were fading, but the feeling of unease remained.

"Hey, uh, we should probably talk some more about what just happened, and the fact that you're having these visions, too," Chloe suggested. "That shit can't be a coincidence."

"You're right," said Max, in the process of disassembling her tattoo gun and putting it away. "But not here. I feel like we should get something to eat, don't you?" She glanced at the clock. "Besides... everyone else has probably clocked out by this time of night. It's my turn to close up the shop."

Chloe glanced up at the clock, which read 8:15. "Whoa... it's been three hours already?" She looked over at Max. "I guess time flies when you're having... uh, spontaneous acid trips."

Max laughed her bright laugh, which helped soothe the troubled storm of Chloe's emotions. As long as she was with Max, everything would be okay. Max looked up at her. "I'm gonna spend some time cleaning this place up a bit. Can you wait outside for a little while? I'll be out soon."

Chloe nodded. "Actually, yeah, I gotta... well, I gotta take a minute. See you in a few," she said, stepping outside the studio and making a mad dash for the bathroom. Her business taken care of and hands washed, she wandered into the lobby. All of the other patrons and artists had left already, and the parlor was mostly dark, and quiet. She got out her phone, finished checking her messages and began scrolling her news feed.

_ Whoa, hundreds of dead birds were found in Delta Park? That's fucked up... and kinda sad, _ she thought as she scanned the article. The accompanying photograph was unnerving: the bird corpses had been placed in a spiralling shape that radiated outwards from a fountain in the center of the park. From the looks of it, all types of birds were present: from sparrows to crows to pigeons to seagulls, even owls. The city officials weren't clear if this was a natural occurrence or someone's disturbed version of a prank. The birds looked like they'd been deliberately arranged -- they were all facing in the same direction -- but the article said that the park's security cameras hadn't caught anyone placing the birds there.

Chloe frowned.  _ More unexplained weirdness. I'd better tell Kate, _ she thought, and texted her a link to the article. She heard a door shut behind her and turned around to see Max, keys jingling as she locked up the door to her studio. She had a bag slung over her shoulder, and she'd changed out of her work smock into more casual clothes.

"Ready to go?" Chloe asked. She took in the sight of Max dressed in civilian clothes: a v-neck tee with a vintage cartoon on it, and skinny jeans with threadbare knees. "Didn't know you secretly moonlighted as a prep, Max," she teased.

"Hey, these clothes are comfortable," Max said, brushing her hair out of her eyes. Chloe noticed she'd even washed up and reapplied her eye makeup. Dressed down like this, she appeared the archetypal indie hipster chick -- only, by Chloe's metrics, approximately one billion times cooler and cuter than anyone else in all of Portland.  _ And she's all mine for tonight _ , Chloe thought possessively.

"Well, it looks good on you, at least," she said, and offered her arm to Max. "Ready to go, miss Doe? Or should I say... miss Caulfield?"

Max gave a snort of laughter. "Sorry, I-- I forgot I actually told you that," she said. "Where are we going, again?"

"It's a surpriiiise," Chloe teased.

"Aw, come on! I just did your tattoo! Tell me?"

"You'll find out when we get there," Chloe said. "'Til then, you'll just have to trust me, won't you?"

Max curled a hand around Chloe's arm. "...I guess I have no choice but to trust you, Chloe. Lead on, O Captain!"

Chloe felt a wave of deja vu which passed swiftly. She shook her head and gave Max a bright smile.

"Okay, follow me!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally I wanted to put the date in this chapter but I split it up into 2 chapters for the sake of pacing. Something more to look forward to~ :D
> 
> Thanks to everyone who left Kudos and comments! Y'all are the best, seriously.


	8. Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe takes Max out for a night on the town. Confessions are made under the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so late, but I've literally been looking forward to this since I started this story, hope you enjoy reading it as much as I liked writing it :)

Chloe sat next to Max as they rode the light rail, their fingertips mere inches apart. She watched Max out of the corner of her eye as the artist gazed out the window of the train, the nighttime lights of the city reflected in her eyes. What existed between them was strange, and new, and powerful, and Chloe had never felt anything like it before. All she knew was that she wanted to be by Max's side whenever possible. It took every bit of willpower she had not to reach over and intertwine their fingers together.

The computerized voice of the train announced they were nearing their destination, so she nudged Max with her elbow. "Next stop is ours."

"Good," Max said, smiling. "I'm so hungry, I could eat a whale."

"Patience, young Padawan. We'll be there soon," Chloe told her. She slung her bag over one shoulder and stood as the train slowed at their platform. They stepped out onto the city street in the middle of the arts district, amid a throng of pedestrians and tipsy college students. She felt Max's body press close to her own, and the other girl's gentle yet firm grip on her elbow.

"Let's stick together," Max suggested. "I don't want to get lost..."

"Huh, you really don't get out much, do you?" Chloe asked, raising an eyebrow.

Max shook her head. "No... I stick to my neighborhood and the tattoo parlor, mostly."

"How long have you lived in Portland, anyway?" Chloe asked with interest as she began leading Max towards their destination.

"Hmm..." Max frowned, looking pensive. "I left school when I was 20 and moved out here, so... three years?"

"You've got a pretty big reputation, having only done your stuff for three years," Chloe said. "Guess it's just 'cause you're super talented and stuff."

"Stop it, you're making me blush," Max said, smiling behind her hand.

Chloe grinned. "No can do, Magic Max. That's exactly what I brought you here for, after all. I wanna make tonight hella special. That okay with you?"

Max looked her in the eye before nodding mutely. Chloe led her along until they reached their destination, a shabby-looking storefront tucked away in a corner between a shoe shop and an organic juice bar.

"Okay, we're here!" Chloe declared, gesturing to the door with a flourish.

"Chloe... this place looks like a complete dive," Max said, skeptically.

"Not just any dive -- this one's _my_ dive," Chloe said. "I wanted to show you where I work. It's not as bad as it looks on the outside, I promise. C'mon in, I'll show you around." She opened the door and the two of them stepped inside. Although most of the other bars in the area were packed with college students engaging in extracurricular activities, this one was blessedly empty at this time of night -- probably due to how out-of-the-way it was. Or how filthy the storefront looked. The interior was clean, at least, and was lit dimly with fairy lights strung out underneath the bar and around the windows. A few of the regulars sat in the booths in the corners, sipping their beers and watching the game on TV, but the bar itself was empty of customers.

Chloe looked up to see who was currently manning the bar, and her stomach sank. _Fuck. I thought I'd checked the schedule tonight..._

Victoria looked up from the bar and locked eyes with her. "Chloe Price," she said, smiling her catlike smile. "Here on your day off? What a surprise."

"Hey, Victoria," Chloe growled. "I wasn't expecting to see you tonight. Where's Jeff?"

"He had to take a sick day. Something about his girlfriend's cat having puppies..." Victoria craned her neck to look around Chloe. "Oh? You're not alone, are you?"

Chloe gave a sigh through her nose. _Might as well get this over with._ "...Yeah. Victoria, this is Max. Max, meet Victoria." Max stepped out from behind her. As soon as the two women met eyes, a feeling of tension filled the room.

"You," Victoria said with a gasp. "You're that girl from the other night--"

"Victoria? Like, Victoria from Vortex Club?" Max stared at her, eyes wide.

"Chloe," Victoria said, looking sideways at her, "Care to explain why your _girlfriend_ thought it was a good idea to interrupt our fucking show?"

"Hey!" Chloe protested. "She saved your lives from that earthquake, and you know it!"

Victoria gave a dismissive sniff. "Hmph. As far as I'm concerned, she's just a rabid groupie. And so are you, apparently. _This_ is why I didn't tell you I was in Vortex Club before."

"Yeah, thanks for keeping that from me. You're a real good friend," Chloe said sarcastically. "Hey, I'm gonna cook something up in the kitchen real quick. Don't kill each other, okay?"

Victoria raised an eyebrow at her. "It's closed for the night. You're gonna get in trouble with the manager if they catch you," she said.

"Yeah, but you're not gonna report me, riiiight, Vicky?" Chloe leaned on the bar. "I'll just take it out of my next paycheck. No big deal."

Victoria groaned. "Fine. Just clean up after yourself when you're done. If Joel asks me tomorrow why it's a mess back there, I'm selling you out in a heartbeat."

"Fine, ok, chill," Chloe said. She turned to Max. "I'm gonna get us some grub. Uh... sorry about her..." she jerked a thumb towards Victoria. "She's all bark and no bite, really."

Max didn't seem upset at all. "No -- it's cool. She's in Vortex Club! That's really neat." Her eyes seemed to sparkle.

A combination of nerves and jealousy twisted in Chloe's gut, which she suppressed immediately. "Just a heads up, she likes to push people's buttons. Just don't let her get to you."

"I'm right here, you know," Victoria said, affronted. "I can hear everything you're saying."

Chloe grinned at Max. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll bring us some food in just a bit." She ducked behind the bar and pushed open the swinging door that separated the kitchen from the dining area. As she got out the ingredients to prepare the recipe she was planning, she peered through the small window at Max and Victoria, trying to catch snippets of their conversation.

"--Your new album. I've been listening to it ever since the show," Max was saying.

Victoria poured a drink and said something back, which Chloe couldn't make out. She frowned and began mixing flour, salt, and water, straining her ears as she did so, but it was difficult to pick out the words the other two women were saying over the tinny radio that was playing in the corner of the kitchen.

"--broke his arm. Plus we lost all our gear in the earthquake," Victoria said.

Max gave her a sympathetic look. "That sucks. Have you considered reaching out to your fans for support? I think a lot of them would want to see the band keep going."

"And lower ourselves to that level? I don't think so," Victoria said.

It was becoming difficult for Chloe to concentrate on both cooking and trying to eavesdrop, so she turned back to the task at hand. She covered her hands in flour and pressed the rolling pin over the dough, pushing it out into a circular shape. If she pressed a little harder than usual, well, no one was there who would notice. She heard the beep indicating the oven was finished preheating, so she slid the dough onto a baking sheet and topped it with marinara sauce, pepperoni, bits of chicken, olives, and a heart-stopping amount of cheese. Garnishing it with fresh basil leaves, she slid the pizza into the oven and set a timer. She wiped sweat from her brow -- it was hot in the kitchen -- and crossed over to the sink to rinse the flour off her hands. Then she pushed open the kitchen doors and strode back into the bar area.

"--Just had a session today where I was working on the shading... Oh, Chloe, you're back!" Max looked up at her with a smile. Chloe saw that Victoria had poured her a drink; something pink and evidently fruity in a martini glass.

Chloe slid into the empty bar stool that was next to her and laid an arm possessively over the back of Max's chair. "Dinner's ready soon."

"I'm excited, but, you didn't have to go all out and cook for me..." Max said.

"Hey, like I said, I want tonight to be special," Chloe told her. "Besides, I haven't got any food back at my apartment, and you've already been there, anyway." She shrugged. "Guess I'm just taking care of two things at once. Showing you this place and making us both some grub."

Max smiled. She reached out a hand to brush it through Chloe's hair, causing her face to immediately heat up. "You've got flour in your hair," she teased.

"Ugh," came Victoria's voice from behind the bar. "You two are gross."

"Can it, Vic," Chloe shot back, but her heart wasn't in it. She had eyes only for Max.

Victoria gave a sniff and retreated to the back of the bar. After a minute, she came back with a martini that was offensively pink and looked like it had suffered a stab wound. She slid it across the bar towards Chloe. "This one's for you," she said. "It's called a Bleeding Heart."

Chloe rolled her eyes and took a sip. It tasted like gin, vermouth, and maraschino cherries. "Not bad," she remarked.

"So," Victoria said, leaning on the bar with interest, "Max tells me she's your tattoo artist, is that right?"

"I'm gettin' some seriously hot-and-cold vibes from you now, Vic," Chloe said, rolling her eyes. She looked over at Max. "...Yeah, Max is working on my tattoo. We just came from an ink session, actually."

"You'd think that would be important enough to mention earlier, hmm?" Victoria leaned in.

"Yeah, just like how you're a part of Vortex Club, right? This shit goes both ways, amiga. I didn't tell you 'cause it's none of your business," Chloe replied. She didn't want to admit that she'd kept the details of her relationship with Max a secret, in part because she wasn't sure they would be reciprocated.

"I think I get it," said Max at Chloe's side. "See, I work under a pseudonym. Chloe was just protecting my identity."

"Uh, y-yeah! That's right," Chloe said. "Max's artwork is like, uber-famous and popular with tattoo nuts. If it got out who she really was, she'd have to deal with, like, stalkers and shit."

Max nodded. "But we've met in person now, so it's okay."

Victoria arched an eyebrow. "I didn't know tattoo artists could get so popular," she said, a hint of disbelief in her voice.

"They can if they're Jane--" Chloe said, before covering her mouth. She'd nearly accidentally revealed Max's other identity.

"Jane? Jane who?" Victoria had picked up on the hint that Chloe hadn't meant to say out loud.

"Jane Doe. That's my pen name," Max said. She looked straight at Victoria. "I trust you won't go telling everyone about me, right?"

"Why would I care? That sounds pretentious as hell," Victoria said. "Let everybody else nerd out over how cool and _mysterious_ you are. But don't think you've got everyone impressed." She turned her back and went to serve some other customers.

Max shook her head. "I don't think I do. Actually, having a reputation kinda has its drawbacks. People come with high expectations... and if I'm not able to meet them, then they lash out at me."

Chloe remembered the angry commenters on the Internet forums spreading negativity about Jane Doe and her work. "C'mon, Max, don't let some jerkoffs ruin your self-image. You're... wonderful, and talented, and your artwork is amazing."

Max shook her head. "I want to believe that... but honestly, I only take on like, a third of the clients I should. The other artists in the parlor are mad that I turn so many away..."

"It's because you only do tattoos on people who don't have them already, right?" Chloe asked.

"Yeah... well, sort of," Max said, looking away for a second. Her eyes met Chloe's once more. "The thing is, I can tell which clients come just because I'm popular, versus the ones who come because they _need_ me..."

"Need you? Why would they..." Chloe wondered for a moment. "Wait, you mean like how you helped Kate, right?"

Max nodded. "My tattoos are more than just art, you know."

"Sheesh! Of course I know that," Chloe said. "They're like... memories made real, or something..." She looked at her tattoo of the lighthouse. "Even memories that don't exist..."

Victoria came back from the end of the bar, where she'd been serving another customer. "So Max, is it true you're a witch?"

"Vic! Come on!" Chloe said indignantly.

"Well..." Max looked pensive. "I always thought I'd be a good fit in Hufflepuff..."

"Hufflepuff, huh? I gotta say, it suits you," Chloe said. She flexed an arm. "Gryffindor pride all day every day, baby."

"Hmph. You mean the designated house for reckless idiots? Fits you to a T, Price," Victoria said.

Chloe looked at Max. She pointed a finger towards Victoria. "She's totally a Slytherin."

"Yeah, agreed." Max snickered under her breath. "It's a perfect fit for her."

"Manipulative _and_ vain! It makes so much sense!" She grinned at Victoria. "I get it now; you're like a female Draco Malfoy."

"Again, need I remind you that I am _right fucking here_ ," Victoria said, arms crossed, scowling.

"C'moooon. You _definitely_ read those books when you were young. We all did," Chloe chided.

Victoria looked like she had just swallowed a bitter pill. She looked away from them and said, in a voice dripping with reluctance, "I _may_ have felt... a certain kinship with some of the characters at one point, but... that doesn't prove anything!"

"It totally does. You just admitted it," Chloe said, taking a sip of her Bleeding Heart and smirking over the rim.

"There's nothing wrong with liking Harry Potter, Victoria," Max said.

"Or with writing pages and pages of erotic fan fiction," Chloe added in. "Was it with your own self-insert? Or were you more of a Drarry type?"

"I am not continuing this conversation. Goodbye," Victoria said and walked briskly away from them to wait on another table. Chloe and Max collapsed into giggles.

Chloe held up a high-five, which Max accepted almost immediately. "Holy shit. Who knew the key to putting Victoria on edge was you this entire time? I almost _never_ see her ruffled like that."

"I've never seen her before at all... well, except for the concert," Max said. She looked up at Chloe. "Is it true that she thinks I'm a witch, though?"

Chloe rolled her eyes. "That's what she says, yeah. I mean, it's my fault really. I was talking about you... well, um," her face flushed. "That is, I ended up talking about you to Victoria of all people, and this was like, back around the first or second time we'd met and you were so cute and mysterious and I maybe got a little bit carried away," Chloe said very quickly, her words falling all over each other.

Max laughed and scooted closer to Chloe, whose skin was burning up in a blush. "It's ok, Chloe. I really don't mind."

"O-okay, well, as long as you know I never said you were a witch," Chloe said, suddenly aware of their proximity.

"But Chloe..." Max's light blue eyes glittered in the low light. She leaned in even closer, so that their faces were just inches apart. "Didn't you say I have magic powers?"

At that moment, Chloe's phone went off on the counter, the sudden loud vibrations causing her to jump three inches straight in the air. She spluttered, embarrassed and unable to form words for a moment, her fingers fumbling to turn off the alarm.

"Uh, d-dinner! Be right back!" She said, scrambling to her feet. She ducked under the bar and pushed open the double doors to the kitchen. The oven was beeping, so she switched it off and used the mitts to remove the pizza, fully cooked and slightly oblong rather than a perfect circle. She'd piled it high with every topping she could find that seemed reasonable to put on a pizza, except for fucking pineapple because she's not a monster. Grabbing a pizza cutter, she sliced it into approximately equal portion sizes before transferring it over to a serving plate. She dumped the dirty dishes and utensils into the sink, making a brief mental note to clean it up in a minute before taking the pizza, along with plates and forks, out of the kitchen and to the bar.

When Max saw her coming with pizza, her face lit up. She stared hungrily as Chloe set it down in front of her.

"Wow! You made this all yourself? It smells amazing," Max said and reached for a slice. Chloe helped herself as well, and for a minute the two ate without saying a word. She'd nearly forgotten how she hadn't eaten since before their ink session.

Chloe was on her second slice while Max was helping herself to a third. She looked overjoyed. "Chloe, this is amazing. I may be magic, but you're like a wizard with food."

Chloe tried to speak with a mouthful of pizza, then realized it and swallowed before speaking. "Wait, did you just _admit_ that you're magic?"

"Just kidding," teased Max as she bit into her slice. Hot gooey cheese dripped onto the bar. Chloe felt like she'd died and gone to pizza heaven.

"Ugh, gross," Victoria said, approaching from the other side of the room. "I hope you're planning to clean up after yourselves."

"You're just jealous," Chloe teased, noticing how Victoria's eyes were watching the pizza. "And don't even think about it. I made this for Max."

"Aw, Victoria can have a piece if she wants," Max said. As soon as she'd said that, one of the slices disappeared from the plate.

"Consider this your cost for me not telling our manager on you," Victoria said with a wicked grin as she spirited away her slice of pizza to a private corner of the bar.

Chloe seethed as she bit into her slice, then resigned herself to her fate. The pizza rapidly vanished from its plate until only a single slice remained. Chloe and Max locked eyes for a moment, before Chloe pushed the slice over towards Max.

"All yours, Maximus."

Max accepted it with a glowing smile on her face. Chloe noticed, not for the first time, that Max  ate an extraordinary amount for a person her size, yet she remained petite as ever. _Where does she put it all?_ Chloe wondered.

"Chloe, this is amazing. You're like some kind of miracle worker when it comes to food," Max said when she finished. "Did you make that all from scratch?"

Chloe nodded. "Family recipe, natch." The taste of marinara and the sensation of tossing fresh pizza dough triggered a sense-memory in her: she remembered when she was a kid, standing by William's side as he showed her how to toss the pizza dough so that it came out perfectly circular. He would ruffle her hair, leaving traces of white flour behind. She felt a tightness in her chest. It had been a long time since she thought about those memories with her dad.

Max seemed to notice a shift in Chloe's expression. "Hey, you ok?"

"Yeah, I..." Chloe swallowed. That shit happened ages ago. Why was she getting all worked up about it now? "S'fine. Just remembering something from when I was a kid." She stood up from the bar. "I kinda have to keep my promise to Victoria and clean up, or else I might lose my job, and I sort of like this one. So I'll be right back. Sorry for leaving you alone again."

"It's all right. I don't mind," Max said, smiling up at her. "Take all the time you need."

Chloe returned to the kitchen and to the sink. She turned on the faucet and allowed the almost too-hot water to run over her hands for a moment. Those memories from when she was young... they almost felt more vivid, more real than they ever had before. She used to think of her childhood, pre-car accident, as a sort of vintage Polaroid: a relic of a bygone era, irrelevant in the fast-paced and superficial modern world. And most importantly, trapped in the past where it couldn't affect her today.

 _What am I saying,_ Chloe thought to herself. _I live in fucking Portland. Vintage shit like Polaroids are 'in' with the hipsters again._ So maybe it wasn't as irrelevant as she thought. She methodically scrubbed at the sauce stains on the plates in the sink. She thought about the dreams she'd been having lately: vivid snapshots from a time in her youth she thought she'd buried long ago, along with her grief and her innocence. Now, they seemed to be coming back with a vengeance, the overwhelming feelings among them. Chloe didn't know if she was strong enough to handle it all, alongside the modern-day pressures of life and love. She was only human after all.

After drying her hands on the towel by the sink, Chloe double-checked the oven was turned off and that the kitchen was reasonably clean so as to not draw any suspicion. She flipped the light switch and re-entered the main bar, where to her mild horror she spotted Victoria and Max in conversation again.

"She totally changed after she met you, you know," Victoria was saying. "Never thought I'd see her bounce back so quickly after what happened... maybe you really _are_ magic."

"Begone, thot," Chloe said as she returned to her bar stool. She drained the remainder of her Bleeding Heart and set it on the bar. "Stop filling Max's head with your slanderous lies."

"Your girlfriend was curious, so I was obliging. I didn't tell her anything that wasn't true," Victoria said. Chloe felt an involuntary shiver upon hearing Max referred to as her girlfriend. _We only kissed once!_ She thought desperately. _Although I wouldn't mind adding to that number..._

"Sorry," Max said, looking apologetic. "Victoria said she's known you for a while, so I got curious. But I shouldn't've gone behind your back."

Chloe sighed. "It's fine. As long as you know not to trust anything she says," she said, casting a glare in Victoria's direction.

"I just think that the person you're dating should know who they're dealing with," Victoria said, inspecting her manicured fingernails.

"Max knows me," Chloe shot back, defensive. "She knows me _way_ better than you do."

"It's true, we do spend a lot of time together during ink sessions," Max said, nodding.

"Plus, I actually tell her, y'know, personal stuff, because I know she's not gonna use it against me at a moment's notice."

"You could always tell me _more_..." Max said. The back of Max's hand touched Chloe's. She felt a low-level buzz, like static electricity but continuous, as their skin made contact. Just the hint of warmth from Max's body sent Chloe's heart racing again.

"A-ah, well, if you're asking, then... sure," Chloe said, fighting to keep herself calm. "But not here. We should dip fairly soon," Chloe said, casting an eye towards Victoria and around the bar. "I got somewhere more private in mind."

"Sounds exciting..." Max sounded so innocent when she said it. Everything she did was captivating to Chloe.

"I hope you're not planning to leave without paying for those," Victoria said, indicating hers and Max's drinks.

Chloe scoffed. "Can't believe you're charging me for a cocktail you just served us without even asking what we wanted first," she said. When Victoria's expression didn't change, she rolled her eyes. "Just put 'em on my tab."

Victoria nodded, and went to write something down next to the cash register. Chloe stepped off her stool, straightening up to her full height. She felt Max's eyes on her, so she did a couple of stretches and flexes, showing of because she liked knowing that she had Max's attention.

She extended a hand to her. "Ready to go, Magic Max?"

Max accepted her outstretched hand and stood up off the stool, and Chloe felt the tingling static again as they held contact. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it wasn't ordinary -- although perhaps it was all in Chloe's head. Despite that, she wanted to hold fast to Max's hand and not let go.

Hand in hand, the two women walked out of the bar and into the night.

 

***

 

Max's hand hadn't left Chloe's since they exited the bar. Her small, delicate fingers entwined with Chloe's, and something about it felt just right. Having Max by her side felt right.

The two women walked hand in hand down the brick sidewalk, their path lit by vintage street lamps and the flashing neon signs of bars. Hordes of other young people were gathered around the entrances of each bar they passed, waiting in line to get inside or talking on phones or smoking cigarettes. If Chloe weren't flat broke, or if she thought it was the type of thing that Max would enjoy, she'd happily take her inside and buy her as many fruity drinks as she liked. But Max was Max, and Chloe already sensed that going out to bars wasn't really her scene. The crowds, the noise, the lights... it would be difficult to carry on a private conversation there. And they had lots to talk about.

Instead, Chloe led them away from the main drag, with its noisy crowds and tinny pop music, off to a side street. They walked in perfect rhythm, stepping in and out of the pools of light cast by the street lamps. As they escaped the noise of the crowds, a quiet stillness filled the air, punctuated by the occasional rev of a car engine or the distant whistle of the light rail. Chloe had a destination in mind again, one where they could talk more privately.

They rounded a corner and there it was: a small public park, with a fountain that was lit up by lights underneath the water. There was a gazebo in the center of the square that was ringed with small lights shining upwards, as well as a skate park and a half-pipe off to one side.

Chloe let go of Max's hand and climbed up to the gazebo, before offering her arm to Max and helping her up as well. The two of them gazed out at the glittering light of the fountain.

"I like to come here at night, after work," Chloe said, leaning against the railing. "That half-pipe over there is a good place to practice my moves. I usually have the whole place to myself, which is pretty cool."

"It's beautiful," Max said, watching the shimmering water. Chloe looked at her. Her eyes were reflecting the thousand tiny lights from the gazebo and the fountain. _You're beautiful,_ she wanted to say, but she found herself unable to speak. She didn't want to sound like a totally smitten dork, even though she undeniably was. She leaned back against the railing with a sigh, looking up at the sky.  Beyond the roof of the pavilion, the stars seemed twice as bright. There were fewer of them out tonight, but the light they cast seemed to bathe the city in a blue glow. The moon was nowhere in sight. For a long moment the only sound was the quiet bubbling of the fountain.

"Hey, uh Max... can we... can we talk?" Chloe didn't know why she was so hesitant all of a sudden. The questions that had danced around the edges of her thoughts so eagerly for the past week were suddenly quiet, and she was having trouble finding the right way to say them.

Max was silent for a few seconds. Then she nodded. "...Yes. I think now is the right time."

Chloe looked over at her. "These dreams..." she started, then she shook her head. "I know you said it wasn't a dream... more like a vision, and that you were having them too."

Max nodded. "I've been seeing something similar myself. It's happening nearly every day now."

"There's no way that's a coincidence..." She shook her head. "Ya know, I don't really... believe in this occult stuff. I usually stay the hell away from it. But since it's happening to me, and you, too, I can't really doubt it anymore."

"I don't think it's the occult, at least not in the way you're thinking," Max said, staring out at the fountain, her expression unchanged. "What you're seeing... what I've been seeing... I have a theory. It isn't our own memories... but also, it is. They're memories from alternate versions of ourselves."

Chloe looked at her with interest. "Alternate... selves?"

"Yes," said Max. "For instance, imagine... a version of you where you'd stayed in Arcadia Bay."

"No way in hell," Chloe said on reflex. "That place was a total shithole."

"Yeah, but it's still where you're from," Max replied. She gestured to the lighthouse tattoo on Chloe's arm. "I know it means _something_ to you."

Chloe glanced at her tattoo and sighed. "Okay. _Maybe_ there are some not-shitty things about it. But I'd be miserable if I stayed there. My happiness is directly proportional to how far away on the horizon Arcadia Bay is from me."

"Really? But it's only about 4 hours from here," Max said.

Chloe groaned. "Ugh, don't remind me."

"Okay, but say there's a version of you where... your car broke down, five minutes outside of the town, and you and Rachel couldn't move out, so you decided to stay there," Max suggested. "Not in this timeline, but in an alternate timeline, anything could be possible."

"How do you know that?" Chloe asked, looking at Max with keen interest.

"I know that there are many alternate versions of me, because I've met some of them," Max said. "I'm a lucid dreamer, remember? Occasionally, when I talk to someone in my dreams... they're a different Me from another timeline."

Chloe blinked. "That's... fucking wild," she said. "I'm sorry, I want to believe you, it's just a lot to process."

"I know... I didn't understand it either, at first, but the other Me's helped me understand." She looked down. "Because of who I am, and what I can do, I see the world differently from most people. And so do the alternate Me's, who have similar abilities. I learned how to understand my power through sharing dreams with them."

"Are you talking about... your magic?" Chloe's heart began to race. Was Max about to reveal her secret?

Max nodded. "I don't think of it as magic, but... yeah. It took years for me to master it, with the help of the other me's who have all gone through it too."

"I guess if it's something unique to you, then the only person capable of teaching it would be yourself, huh..." Chloe said. It was hard for her to understand what Max was talking about without knowing the exact nature of her powers.

Max nodded. "But lately, the dreams have changed. Over the past month or so, I haven't been in control of myself like I normally am. I'm seeing these... memories, I think, and they're from my perspective so I know it's me, but I can't talk to her anymore. And there's someone else there, too."

"Yeah, you mentioned that." Chloe leaned in with interest. "Do you know who it is?"

"She's a girl, I think..." Max shook her head. "I can't see her face. The only thing I can tell is, I know her from somewhere, or the other me does anyway, and that I need to protect her."

"So, she hasn't appeared in your dreams before?" Chloe asked. She recalled her own dreams, and the person-shaped space that kept appearing in them. "Can you tell anything else about her? Do you recognize her from somewhere"

"I think I would've remembered if I'd seen her before. Not many people have blue hair..."

Chloe felt as though time was slowing down around her. "...Sorry, what?"

"Every time I see her, the only thing I can tell is that she has blue hair. But I don't know anyone with hair that color."

"Max..." Chloe tightened her grip on the railing. Her thoughts were spinning almost too fast to comprehend. "...I used to have blue hair."

"You did?!"

"Yeah," Chloe said. She felt the blood rushing to her ears. "It was bright blue, back when I was 17 or so."

"I... think what that means is..." Max stepped back from the railing. "The person I'm seeing in those memories might be you, Chloe," Max said. Her blue eyes locked with Chloe's.

"Max, I..." Chloe broke eye contact. "Since the day we met, I've had the strangest feeling that I knew you from somewhere... I kept getting this weird deja vu every time I thought about you." She shook her head. "In the visions I've been seeing, there's another person, too... or more like, there's a space where a person should be. I thought it was Rachel, but... now I'm thinking maybe that person is... you?"

Max looked thoughtful. "It's possible... our other selves knew each other."

"I think it was more than that," Chloe said, recalling the feeling she'd had towards the other person in the dream. "I think we were really close."

"Yeah," Max said. "Every time I see that other person, I get this feeling of... needing to protect her, to prevent bad things from happening to her. It's almost overpowering."

Chloe gave an involuntary laugh. "Yeah, tell me about it." She looked at Max. Her form was illuminated from behind by a soft glow; she looked ethereal, almost otherworldly. The spiral tattoo on her hand stared back at Chloe. A charge seemed to fill the air in between them.

"Max... how is this possible? Alternate selves, and dreams, and... destiny..." Chloe felt dizzy. "There's more to this, isn't there? Something else you aren't telling me?"

"Yeah," Max said. "There is." Chloe breathed out a shuddering breath. Their faces were mere inches apart. Max reached out to brush a lock of Chloe's hair behind her ear, leaving a tingling sensation in the wake of her fingertips. She leaned in and pressed her body against Chloe, capturing Chloe's lips with her own. An electric charge felt as though it was passing between them as Chloe kissed back, their bodies folding into each other, an intense desire for closeness crashing over the both of them like a wave. Max stood on the tips of her toes, the warmth of her lips and taste of her tongue overruling all of Chloe's other senses. She could feel their hearts beating in tandem as they held each other close, frozen in that pristine moment in time.

When Max broke the kiss, Chloe leaned forward to claim her lips again, her hand sliding to the back of Max's head to bring them closer together. She was through with holding herself back. If this was destiny -- if they truly were connected across time and space -- then Chloe felt it as she held Max in her arms, this beautiful, mysterious, magical woman who would always and forever change her life.

After an immeasurable span of time, they parted again. Chloe looked into her blue eyes and saw her entire world reflected back. Max's long eyelashes fluttered. Chloe remembered the  blue butterfly she'd seen in her dreams, the one that was now permanently inked on her arm.

In the sky above the pavilion, the stars begin to flare up to ten times their brightness, bathing the city streets in their cold blue light.

"Chloe..." Max said. Her voice was airy, yet weighted with purpose. She held Chloe's face in her hands, her thumbs gently stroking her hair.

"The reason I know all of this is... I'm a time traveler."

High up above, the first of the stars began to fall from the sky, glittering in its bright cold fire, streaking towards the city streets below.


	9. Firefall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Max's secret is out, she and Chloe must rely on one another if they want to survive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote most of this chapter during the eclipse :)
> 
> Narrative note: For the sake of clarity Max's PoV is indicated by the symbol @@@. Her perspective is always in 2nd person.  
> Chloe's perspective is indicated with *** and is written in 3rd person.  
> Dream sequences are in italics.  
> Hope that clears things up a bit.

@@@

 

_ "Chloe... The reason I know all of this is... I'm a time traveler." _

Chloe stared at you, uncomprehending for a moment, still riding the high from the kiss the two of you had shared. As what you said to her registered, her eyes grew wide.

"Max... you..." she began. You could see her preparing to ask more questions. You felt a trembling in your extremities, which you weren't sure was the feeling remaining from the kiss, or the combined relief and nervousness of finally revealing the secret that you'd kept to yourself for so long, or if it was something else entirely.

Before she could vocalize her question however, the two of you were interrupted by an enormously loud crash coming from a few blocks away. It sounded like a hundred china cabinets shattering all at once. You felt a wave of heat against your skin as the both of you turned towards the source of the noise, and you beheld an apartment block ablaze, just 300 meters away from the park. Some enormous object had crashed into the side of the building, gouging out what looked like a massive bite mark in the brick exterior. The fires were spreading throughout the complex.

_ There are people inside, _ you thought desperately, and your right hand twitched. Before you could rewind, Chloe grabbed your hand.

"Max, look at the sky!"

The two of you looked upwards. The brilliant points of light that you thought were stars, but which shone brighter than any star you'd ever seen, were beginning to move. You watched in mute horror as one of them grew larger and larger, leaving a glittering trail behind as it streaked downwards towards the city. It landed with a burst of fire and light and another ear-splitting crash. Chloe gasped, and you felt her hand tighten in yours reflexively. 

"I saw this happen in my dream... Max, what the hell is going on?!" She looked at you, confusion and fear and dancing flames reflected in her eyes.

You shook your head. "I-- I don't know," you said. "It's just like the earthquake... we have to move. It isn't safe here." Keeping your grip tight on her hand, you both jumped down from the pavilion and ran quickly from the park. Your instincts turned out to be correct, because as soon as you were 100 yards away, you felt an intense heat on your back. Unable to keep yourself from looking, you glanced over your shoulder and saw it: an enormous ball of molten glass and fire, ten feet in diameter, hurtling at terminal velocity towards the exact spot you'd been standing a minute before. You watched in horror as it impacted the roof of the gazebo. The entire structure crumpled as though it were made of paper, and the deafening noise filled your eardrums with static. You raised an arm up to protect your face from the dry waves of heat and tiny shards of glass and shrapnel.

Chloe tugged on your arm, and you tore your gaze away from the inferno. The two of you sprinted down an alleyway, running blindly until your breath came in ragged gasps. You let her lead you away from the blaze, but as you turned a corner you found yourself greeted by a wall of flame.

"Shit!" Chloe swore. "Shit, shit, shit!" She spun around, looking frantically for a different direction to go, when you felt the ground vibrate underneath your feet as another falling star impacted behind you. When you turned, you found yourselves walled in with fire on all sides. It was closing in on you both, with no obvious way out.

"Hang on, Chloe," you said, as you stretched your right hand out and willed time to flow backwards. Before your eyes, the fire doused itself and the shards of glass recombined into the sphere, which rose up from the ground. Chloe moved in reverse, retracing your steps to the last fork in the road. You rewound about a minute and then, with time still moving backwards very slowly, rejoined her at her side before releasing your grip on the time stream.

"Not that way," you told Chloe, and at your urging the two of you took off in the opposite direction.

"Just now-- you flickered," Chloe said through panting breaths. "Was that-- did you just time travel?"

"Yes. I'll explain later. No time right now," you said as the two of you sprinted around a corner.

"Haha, that's-- rich, coming from you," she said.  _ She's right _ , you thought. Leave it to Chloe to point out the irony in a situation where both of your lives were on the line. As you ran, you felt a tingling in the back of your right hand. You glanced down at your spiral tattoo. About a quarter of the ink on it had faded. You figured you maybe had about 3 minutes of Rewind left before you'd pass out or suffer any serious consequences.  _ Better use it sparingly until we reach someplace safe _ , you thought to yourself.

As you were thinking those things, the two of you turned a corner and reached a main street, and you found yourself face-to-face with chaos. Screams filled the air as people ran for shelter. Cars on the road were honking and swerving around one another, running up on sidewalks and narrowly avoiding pedestrians in a desperate effort to get out of harm's way. Before your eyes, you watched in horror as an SUV crested the curb, hurtling straight towards a woman clutching her small daughter in her arms, a terrified look in her eyes.

Your body moved without thinking. You reached out your right hand, slowing time down to a crawl as you leapt across the street to where the woman and child were huddled in terror, bathed in the car's headlights. You rewound time, moving the car back 20 feet, then grabbed the mother by the crook of the arm. As you released your Rewind, you pulled at her arm urgently.

"Over here! Quickly!" You yelled over the chaos. She looked bewildered, but stepped off the curb with her daughter in tow, just in time as the SUV plowed into the space she'd just been standing, its bumper shattering the glass window of the store. The woman looked at it in shock, then back at you, then at the car again.

"Get to safety," you urged her. You scanned the street, noticing a sign pointing towards a nearby fallout shelter. "Follow the signs and get underground," you told her. She nodded, gratitude shining in her eyes, and took her daughter by the hand to lead her in the direction you pointed. You took in deep gulps of air. You hadn't meant to use your Rewind like that; you probably only had 2 minutes left, now.

Looking back across the street at Chloe, she was staring at you in slack-jawed awe. It wasn't hard to understand why; she'd just witnessed you teleport to the other side of the street in order to save a total stranger. She ran across the street to rejoin you at your side.

"Holy shit," she said, after she caught her breath. "You're a fucking superhero, Max. For reals."

"Don't thank me yet," you told her. "We have to get to safety." You pointed in the direction the sign indicated. "There's a fallout shelter in that direction. If we make it there, we'll be safe."

Chloe's expression twisted. She looked a bit guilty. "...There's somewhere I gotta go first," she said.

"Chloe, now is not the time!" Your heart pounded in your throat. Every minute you spent away from safety was another minute of keeping Chloe in danger. You couldn't afford to lose her, not now...

"I know, but... I gotta check on Victoria at the bar. Heinous bitch or not, she's my friend, and I gotta make sure she's okay," she said.

Your resolve softened. "...Of course," you told her, reaching out and taking her hand. "Which way is it again?"

"It's not far," Chloe said, pointing. "Just a couple blocks away." The majority of pedestrians were moving in the opposite direction, towards the fallout shelter. In order to get through to the bar, you would have to go against the flow of the crowd. You scanned the masses of people for a corridor the two of you could slip through. Spying a gap, you tugged Chloe after you as the two of you dodged through the horde of panicked people.

Rounding the corner, you faced another long street, filled with cars honking their horns and driving erratically. People were scrambling down the fire escape in order to get out of an apartment whose roof had been caved in by one of the falling stars. You spotted flashes of blue and red lights and heard the wailing of sirens.

"This way!" Chloe shouted over the noise, and pulled you along as you ran down the sidewalk. Everybody else was too focused on getting themselves to safety to notice two more women running down the street. You eyed the cars with nervousness, but most of them seemed trapped in the traffic jam, the sound of car horns echoing through the streets as panicked drivers tried to escape. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the blinding light of another falling star streaking through the sky, impacting somewhere behind you. With a shatter and a resounding CRASH, all of the street lights went out at once.

You tightened your grip on Chloe's arm as the sidewalk you were standing on became plunged into darkness. The screams of the crowd grew louder, and the only visible lights were the headlights of cars and the cold light of the stars overhead. That last explosion must've taken out the electricity for the block.

In the panic, you felt somebody's shoulder impact yours, and Chloe's hand slipped away from your grasp. You gave an involuntary shout as you tripped, overbalancing down to the ground. As your forearms broke your fall against the concrete, a sharp pain shot up your left arm and shoulder, and you felt hot liquid trickling down your wrist. Wired on adrenaline, you suppressed the pain and cried out for Chloe. No one in the crowd answered your call, and you felt a heavy boot impact your side as someone stumbled over your fallen body in the darkness.

_ Fuck this _ , you thought vehemently, rewinding to the moment before the lights shut off. As the streetlights switched back on and you spotted Chloe's face again, relief washed over you.  _ Even just a few seconds away from her is too much _ , you thought, releasing your grip on the time stream.  _ Just one minute left now _ . Your head was starting to ache.

Chloe stared at you. You could tell she'd just seen you flicker again, but before she could ask about it, you told her, "Chloe, turn on your phone's flashlight. The lights are gonna go." As you said those words, the streetlights went out. Chloe dutifully powered on her phone's flashlight, as you lit yours as well. She reached out to grab your hand again, and suddenly recoiled.

"Holy shit, Max, you're hella bleeding!" she exclaimed. She shone her light on your forearm, which had been torn from your fall before rewinding. The light glinted off a few shards of broken glass that remained embedded in your skin.

"Don't worry about it," you told her. You didn't feel any pain now, although you were sure that pain would come later. "Let's focus on getting to the bar." Chloe nodded and took your hand, apparently unbothered by the blood. Casting your own small circle of light, the two of you moved at a steady pace, avoiding obstacles and making your way to the end of the block. You had no idea where you were headed, but fortunately Chloe's sense of direction seemed true even in pitch-blackness as the two of you rounded a corner.

Your light illuminated a familiar-looking facade of a store that you'd passed earlier that night, although its neon sign had been extinguished. This street was mostly empty. You could still hear the sounds of panicked crowds, and feel the vibrations under your feet each time one of the falling stars impacted somewhere nearby. You looked up to the sky, where fewer than half of the stars remained.  _ Why was this happening? Was this your fault somehow? _

Finally, your footsteps slowed as you reached your destination. In the darkened alleyway, the entrance to the dive bar was almost invisible, but Chloe sought it out with practiced accuracy. Her hand fell on the door handle, which she pushed. It rattled but did not budge.

"Fuck!!" she exclaimed, and kicked the door. "Victoria!!" She tugged at her hair, fingers digging into her scalp in frustration. She paced in a circle before returning to pound at the door. "Open up, dammit!"

You heard a soft 'click' as the door swung open. "Whoa!" Chloe exclaimed as she overbalanced and nearly fell inside. You followed behind, shining your light on the dim interior of the bar, and on the unamused face of Victoria, who was wearing the sourest expression one could possibly have on the night of the apocalypse.

"You two," she said, looking unsurprised as she shut the door and locked it behind you, "Have got to be the biggest idiots on the face of the planet for showing up here again."

"Well, excuuuse me, princess," retorted Chloe. "We came here to check on you! Like, to make sure you weren't dead and stuff!"

"Tch. As if I'd be that much of an idiot to go outside when it's raining hellfire from the sky," she said, before beckoning the two of you. "C'mon. We'll be safe in the walk-in freezer."

"The freezer? But... isn't it, uh, freezing?"

Victoria gave her the least amused look imaginable. "Honestly, Price, I thought you were smarter than that," she said. "The power's out, so obviously the freezer's not running."

"Oh," Chloe said, "Right." She looked crestfallen.

"It's still pretty chilly though, so you'll want some coats." She picked up a pile of clothing off a chair. "These were left behind by some customers, but they're sooo last... season..." Victoria trailed off as she noticed your arm, which was shedding a steady stream of blood droplets onto the hardwood floor. She wrinkled her nose. "Ugh, gross. You'll want to do something about that."

"Yeah, no shit," Chloe said. She approached you and grabbed your arm, holding it gingerly as she inspected the wound. "Uh, Max, this looks really nasty. I'm gonna need some alcohol, and tweezers, and some kinda cloth to wrap this up." She grabbed a bottle of vodka from behind the bar. Then, after a moment of thought, she grabbed two more.

"Thanks," you said, your own voice sounding quiet and far-away. Your head was really pounding and your vision was swimming; you weren't sure if it was the blood loss or the over-use of time travel. You felt an itch by your nose, and the hand you rubbed it with came away bloodied.  _ Yep, definitely time travel _ , you thought.

"Uhh, Max? You all right?" Chloe asked. Her voice sounded like it was coming from a great distance away. "Hey, answer me. Max? Max!!" 

"Chloe..." you mumbled, as you wobbled on your feet and everything around you faded to black.

 

@@@

 

_ "This is my storm... I caused this. I caused all of this." _

_ You're standing on the edge of the cliff as the storm ravages Arcadia Bay. Icy cold rain lashes your face and soaks through your clothes as the wind howls around you. Up above you, the lighthouse shudders and shakes, but stands firm. Chloe -- beautiful, broken Chloe -- looks at you like you are her entire world. All of your power, everything you did to save her, everything she meant to you: this was the result. The mournful howling of the wind sounds like the desperate cries of hundreds of innocent souls, caught up in the wrath of the storm you unintentionally created. _

_ You're selfish. You're flawed. Out of all the people to receive these powers, you deserved them the least. But to weigh her life against the lives of everyone that you know and everyone that you don't -- that's not a choice you can make. But you have to make it. _

_ Surely there's another way. You can't sacrifice Chloe for Arcadia Bay, nor can you sacrifice the city for her sake. _

_ No... the problem isn't Chloe or Arcadia. The distortion, the root of this disaster -- it lies with you. _

_ You realize what it is that you must do. _

 

***

 

The sun didn't rise the following morning.

Chloe glanced at the clock on the wall, which read 10:15 AM, and then out at the sky. It was no longer pitch black, but instead showed a hazy, dim red color. The sun and the moon were nowhere to be seen after the stars fell from the sky. She wasn't sure if the red sky was a reflection of the fires still burning in the city, or if it was a more permanent change. Either way, the lack of proper light in the sky was deeply disorienting. She felt it in her gut like a sickness.

She lifted the shutters on the cracked window and looked out at post-apocalyptic Portland. Well, it sure as hell looked like it, anyway. The shattered, glassy remnants of a fallen star were visible if she craned her neck to look around the corner, next to the blackened side of an apartment building where the majority of the windows had been fractured by the impact. Distant sirens wailed, as they had been doing continuously since the first stars fell at midnight. They had stopped falling by around 3 AM, but by then the damage was massive. No one was out on the streets that she could see.

Chloe never thought she'd live to see the end of the world, but the universe seemed determined to defy her expectations. After what she'd been through last night, 'normal' felt like a far-away dream.  _ This _ was her new normal: a shattered sky, a city ablaze, a world where time could be turned back on itself.

She drew the shutters on the window again and turned back to the interior of the bar. Chloe looked over at Max, who was still asleep in a booth in the corner, and Victoria, who was sitting at the bar, fiddling with her cell phone and twitching with anxiety. The power was still out, but they'd found a few candles stashed in the closet, which they were burning one at a time to cast a flickering orange glow across the interior of the bar. 

They had spent most of the night in the walk-in freezer, shivering in the cold, waiting for the distant tremors to stop. Chloe had done her best to clean and dress Max's wounds after the artist suddenly collapsed. As she did, Max had stirred, groaning and muttering, but she hadn't awakened. Chloe thought she might have been having some type of nightmare. After she wrapped the wound in cloth from a shredded T-shirt, she covered Max with several discarded coats and sat beside her on the chilly floor, wrapping an arm protectively around her. Eventually, Max's shivering ceased and her breathing returned to normal. Chloe didn't get any sleep that night.

A few hours after the tremors ceased, Chloe ventured out of the freezer. Seeing that it was safe, she'd signaled Victoria and lifted Max on her back to bring her to a booth in the corner. Just like when she'd passed out on the night of the Vortex Club concert, she hadn't stirred in spite of Chloe's best efforts.

_ She probably needs to recover from using her time travel _ , Chloe thought. She was still trying to wrap her mind around what Max had told her the previous night, but there could be no denying what she saw. She'd seen Max spontaneously disappear and reappear, predict the future, and act like a real-life superhero.

_ Deny it all you want, Super Max. I know the truth, that you can't help but help people _ , Chloe thought, remembering the woman and child who Max had saved from the oncoming truck.  _ Total strangers. And she put herself in danger to do it out of the goodness of her heart. _ Max really was incredible.

But there was more to the story, too. How did she get these powers? Were there other people who had powers like hers? If she had supernatural control over the space-time continuum itself, what was Max doing working in a tattoo shop? Chloe couldn't know the answers to any of those questions until Max awoke. And then, there was the issue of Victoria.

Chloe looked over at the other girl, who was still staring at her phone screen, a scowl on her face. She hadn't said much since they'd gone inside the freezer.

"Y'know, if that thing runs outta juice, you won't be able to charge it until the power comes back on," Chloe said, striking up a conversation for the sake of filling the silence.

"Excuse me? You think I don't know that?!" Victoria snapped, voice cracking like a whip. Chloe could sense the stress radiating off of her. "I'm just trying to find out what the hell is going on!"

"Easy, easy," Chloe said, holding up her hands in an act of submission. "I'm not saying you're doing anything wrong. Any luck so far?"

"Fucking no, of course not," Victoria said, seething with frustration. "Each time I try to access the internet, it tells me it can't find the server. This unlimited data plan is garbage, I want my money back."

"D'you think one of those fireballs took out the cell tower?" Chloe asked, fishing her own phone out of her pocket. To her surprise, she still had 3 bars. "Oh, hey, looks like I've got signal."

"I've got signal too. It just doesn't fucking work!"

"Well..." Chloe chewed the inside of her cheek in thought. "Did you try calling or texting anyone?"

"Of course I did, you ignoramus," Victoria said. "It says the message sent. I... haven't gotten anything back, though..."

Chloe recalled Victoria saying how Nathan had broken his arm in the earthquake. "Are you worried about Nathan?"

"That's none of your business," she snapped.

"Chill, I'm just saying, it's ok to be worried. I'm more than a little freaked out, too," Chloe said. She thought of all of the people she knew in Portland, not to mention beyond the city, and wondered how many of them were safe. She felt fear gnaw at her gut. As she glanced over to the sleeping form of Max in the booth, though, some of her fears subsided. At least she knew that one of the most important people in her life was safe and sound.

Victoria straightened up. "I can't stay here any longer."

"Whoa, wait, you sure it's safe? I mean, it's not raining fire anymore, but you don't have any clue what's out there," Chloe said.

"I don't need your concern. I can handle myself," Victoria said, wrapping her scarf around the lower part of her face and buttoning up her designer coat. Even on the red-tinged morning after the apocalypse, after spending the previous night shivering on the floor of a freezer, she still dressed sharp enough to kill a man. Chloe was secretly impressed.

"Where are you going? Are you gonna look for Nathan?"

"I'm..." Victoria hesitated. "I'm going to my apartment first, then his. Then... we'll go someplace safer. Maybe outside Portland, if it's not as fucked up out there."

"Are you gonna come back here?" Chloe asked. Rather than answer her, Victoria tossed her the set of keys to the front door.

"I've spent enough time in this fucking bar for a lifetime," Victoria said. "If you see our boss, tell him I'm quitting, effective today." As she rested her hand in the doorway, she turned back and cast a glance over at Max. "You know, Chloe... not to point fingers or anything, but it seems like everywhere you take that girlfriend of yours, some weird fucking disaster happens."

Chloe felt a burst of rage inside of her. "What, you think it's  _ Max's _ fault this shit's happening?!"

"I'm just saying, it's a pretty weird coincidence," Victoria said. "I mean, you brought her to our concert and there was that earthquake. Then you take her out on a date and the sky literally falls on us. That's not normal."

"Nothing about this shit is normal!" Chloe exclaimed, pounding a fist on the table. "But don't bring Max into this. She had nothing to do with it!"

"Maybe you should ask her that yourself," Victoria said. "Perhaps she can tell you something more about it with her  _ magic powers _ ."

Chloe paled. Max's powers... and the supernatural disasters... could there be a link? She didn't want to believe it.

"I..." Chloe tightened her fist, fingernails digging into the palm of her hand. "I know that Max would never hurt anybody. Not on purpose. She's a good person."  _ Not to mention a real-life superhero. _

"Hmph. Whatever helps you survive this mess. But for the sake of self-preservation, Chloe, you'll forgive me for getting the fuck away," Victoria said. "Whatever bad juju she's got on her, I don't want any part of it."

Chloe grit her teeth. "Do what you want, I'm not leaving Max."  _ Not in a million years. _

"Fine," Victoria said as she opened the door. The streets outside were eerily silent, with only the howl of the wind and the distant wail of sirens in the darkness.

"Wait, Vic," Chloe said. "...Don't die, okay?"

Victoria smirked behind her scarf. "Aww, Chloe, you do care about me," she said. "Don't worry. Nathan and I can take care of ourselves." After a moment of consideration, she said, "I'll text you when we get outside the city."

Chloe nodded. "Fair enough. Later, skank."

"So long, loser," Victoria said, and Chloe thought she heard a hint of fondness in her voice. She let go of the door and strode out into the blackened morning. Chloe let out a sigh she hadn't realized she was holding in.

She heard a groan from the corner booth where Max was sleeping. The pile of coats and scarves shifted as Max stirred and sat up. She looked rough; her face was pale and she had dark circles underneath her eyes. Chloe grabbed a bottle of water from underneath the bar and hurried to her side.

"Here, Max," Chloe said, handing her the water. Max looked at her gratefully and twisted off the cap, drinking until the entire bottle was empty. As she set it down, some color had returned to her face.

"Thanks," she said in a breathy voice. "I needed that."

"Thought you might," Chloe said, sliding into the booth across from her. "How's your arm?"

Max moved the bandaged arm, wincing as she did so. "Ow. Hurts a lot more than it did last night."

"Sorry," Chloe said. "I did my best to clean it and wrap it up, but I kinda had to make do with what we had. Let me know if the bandages are getting dirty, and I'll change them for you."

"It's fine," Max said. "Thank you. You didn't have to do this..."

"Bullshit! You saved my life," Chloe said. "If you hadn't been there last night... I might not even have lived to see this fucked-up morning." She lifted the blinds of the window again, gazing out into the red, hazy stillness.

Max looked to one side, a worried crease appearing in her brow. She seemed troubled by more than just her injury. Concerned, Chloe leaned in closer.

"What's wrong, Max?"

"Chloe..." she said, a tremor in her voice. "What if... I caused this? What if this disaster is my fault?"

Chloe's stomach dropped like a stone. "Aw, shit, you heard what Victoria said? Don't listen to her, Max. She's just freaked out because she doesn't know where Nathan is, so she's lashing out at you because she can. She hasn't got a clue what she's talking about." Chloe reached out a hand and rested it on top of Max's. "I know you. You're a good person, Max. You saved that family last night! Don't ever let someone like her make you feel like less than you are. You're freakin' amazing."

Rather than comforting her, like Chloe had hoped, her words caused Max to curl further in on herself. "That's not it..." she said. "I did hear Victoria. But this isn't about that..." She lifted her head and made eye contact with Chloe. "Last night, while I was asleep... I had another dream-vision."

"You did?" Chloe leaned in with interest. After her dream of the stars falling from the sky had come true, she was almost more ready to believe in dreams than in what she saw while awake. "What did you see?"

"I saw... the storm. Our storm," Max said, gesturing towards the tattoo on Chloe's arm. "The version of me in the dream was standing on the cliff... and you were there, too. The other you, with blue hair."

Chloe nodded. She'd dreamed of that storm too many times to count at this point.

"The storm was going to crash into Arcadia Bay... it was about to destroy the whole town," Max said. "The Other Me that was there... she thought it was all her fault. That because she'd abused her time travel, she caused the storm to appear. So she had to choose... between letting the storm destroy Arcadia Bay, so that we could survive, or... letting you die, Chloe, so that everyone else could be saved."

Chloe felt a buzzing between her ears. "What...? I don't understand..."

"The Other Me didn't want to make that choice... she couldn't choose between your life and the lives of hundreds of innocent people. So, she..." Max frowned deeply. "She did... something. I can't... remember..."

Chloe rested a hand on Max's shoulder and gave it a reassuring rub. "Hang in there, Max. I'll get us some more water," she said, and got up to fill two glasses at the tap. She returned to the booth and handed one to Max, who gratefully accepted it and took a long drink. She set it down on the table and appeared to tremble. Chloe reached out a hand and brushed it against Max's, gently rubbing circles with her thumb until her shivering stopped.

"I don't..." Max sighed. "I've already caused so much destruction. I don't even want to know what it's like out there. What happened to the city. How many innocent lives I accidentally--"

"Shhh, shh," Chloe said, continuing to comfort her. "You haven't got any proof that you caused this shit, right? I mean, hell, you have time powers-- which is hella freakin' cool, I just gotta say-- so, couldn't there be, like, somebody else with powers, too? Like, your arch-nemesis, or something? An anti-Max?"

Max shook her head. She turned over her hand so the spiral tattoo was facing up. "No... I'm pretty sure it's just me that has this power. The Other Me's I spoke to in my dreams before, when I was first learning to use time travel, have always said I'm the only one in this timeline... but, I've been so careful in the past, so why..." She looked at Chloe. "Why now, and why you?"

Chloe shook her head. "Man, if you're clueless, consider me ten times that. I don't even  _ get _ what your power even is. I mean, time travel?! This whole time I thought I was in Harry Potter, but now I'm wrapped up in some Doctor Who-type shit..." She gave a small smile. "Man, I know this is, like, scary and awful, but it's hella cool, too. You're a freakin' real-life superhero! I'm dating a superhero! Um," She blushed. "We are dating, right?"

That got a giggle out of Max. "I thought the date we went on last night was proof of that."

"Cool, so, can I call you my girlfriend? Pretty please?" Chloe leaned across the table.

"All right, girlfriend," Max said, smiling. Chloe gave a victorious whoop, which seemed very loud in the empty bar. Then she settled down and came back to reality, remembering where they were: stranded in the middle of a ravaged and still-burning city.

"Chloe..." Max said. "I have to find a way to undo this, if I can. To turn back the clock and revert this destruction. These people, this city... they didn't deserve to be victims of this disaster. So, if there's any way I can reverse this... I will."

Chloe nodded. "I get you. I mean, I'm pretty sure you're the only one that  _ can _ do anything about this."

"But, if I do find a way to turn back time and bring things back to normal... you might forget all of this. All the memories we shared together will disappear," Max said. "Are you sure that's okay with you?"

Chloe hesitated. Then she leaned across the table and kissed Max lightly, just a slight brush of lips. She pulled back, looked into Max's eyes, and smiled. "Totally. I'm your sidekick, after all. I'll help you out, no matter what. Besides... we can always make new memories together, right?"

"O-of course, Chloe," Max said. She was blushing a bit.

"All right!" Chloe straightened up. "I swear, Max, we'll find out why this is happening, and stop it together. You've got my support the entire way." She extended a hand. "Deal?"

Max accepted the handshake. The electric energy that passed between them when they touched palms felt like coming home.

"Soooo..." Chloe made a show of cracking her knuckles and rolling the kinks out of her shoulders. "How should we get started on this? It would help if I actually knew how your powers work..."

"Yes," said Max. She took a deep breath "...It's time I told you everything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shits getting REAL yo
> 
> Next chapter, we finally find out what Max's deal is!
> 
>  
> 
> Also, Life is Strange: Before The Storm episode 1. SO GOOD. thanks DeckNine for my life  
> (This fic is AU so any inconsistencies with BtS canon can be conveniently ignored, because I say so.)
> 
> Thanks again for all your lovely comments! I read every single one, it makes my day each and every time. Y'all are the best and this fandom is so lovely <3 <3


	10. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max recalls her adolescence and how she discovered her time powers and learned to use them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some minor housekeeping notes:
> 
> First, the chapters have titles now! Nice.  
> Secondly, I've gone back and made some minor edits, mainly to dream sequences such as the one Chloe has in Chapter 5. Nothing major, just a little something I like to call "foreshadowing"...  
> Lastly, if this is your first time seeing this story, please start from the beginning! Otherwise you'll ruin the mystery for yourself, and we wouldn't want that ;)

 

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You were sixteen when your powers manifested for the first time.

You'd always been clumsy, awkward, and introverted; shy to almost the point of self-destruction. You had no real close friends, no big dreams or ambitions. You simply focused on staying on course, avoiding the notice of bullies, teachers, and peers, and flying below people's radar. In your mind, it made sense, because each time you tried to draw attention to yourself or make your opinions known, you'd invariably screw it up. The shame of making even a small mistake in front of others would smolder and burn inside you for months.

Your parents didn't understand. You couldn't blame them: they loved you and they wanted you to be happy, to have friends, to live a normal life. They just didn't get how it felt. They could never understand your ever-present social anxiety, why you'd prefer to sit in the back of the class and doodle in your notebook, why you always packed up your things right after school and walked straight home, why the list of people on your phone's speed dial was just 3 names long: theirs, and your art teacher's.

Drawing was the only thing that really set you free. Once you figured out you could do it alone, seated in a secluded corner of the classroom with your headphones in, you became addicted. While you were drawing, in your own space where nobody would bother you, all your other worries would fade away. And so your teacher - who, you later realized, probably had seen dozens of students with the same crippling anxiety issues as you - made sure that you always had your own private space where you could draw, uninterrupted, during your free time.

It happened on one of those days. You'd slept poorly the night before, troubled by strange dreams, so you wanted even less to do with other people than you usually did. You took your lunch up to the empty classroom, and laid out your materials: sketch pad, pencils and pens, and eraser. Your lunch lay forgotten next to your canvas, on which you were working on your latest illustration: a drawing of a blue Morpho butterfly. You were on a big photorealism kick, trying to capture the shadows and delicate details as accurately as possible. This particular piece had taken you hours, and you were really proud of it. It might even be your best work yet.

Unfortunately, all your best efforts were no match for your habitual clumsiness. As you were using a white pencil to put in the finishing touches on the butterfly's antennae, you absentmindedly knocked over the glass of orange juice that was sitting on the corner of your canvas. Dread filled you as you watched, in slow-motion, as the glass wobbled on its base before tipping over, flinging drops of sugary, staining liquid all over the art piece you'd poured so many hours into. You reached out a hand desperately.

You heard a sound like a metallic screech, and then utter stillness filled your ears. Before your eyes, the droplets of liquid hung in midair, as though a cosmic Pause button had been pressed. Then, impossibly, they began to flow backwards, rejoining each other and returning to the cup, which righted itself. Then the silence faded, and you were staring at your butterfly drawing, as pristine as it had been before your clumsy mistake.

 _What... just happened?_ You wondered to yourself. You stared at the palm of your hand. Nothing had changed... was that actually real? As you sat in silence, trying to find out whether what you had just seen was a hallucination or not, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. You packed up your materials and spent the rest of your day telling yourself it was only a dream.

Dream or not, you found yourself in your room later that night, attempting to repeat the scenario. You placed a glass of water on top of a blank sheet of paper. Taking a deep breath, you reached out to jostle the glass, tipping the water out and spilling it across your desk. Then, you reached out your right hand and focused, trying to capture the same feelings you'd felt before.

To your joy and amazement, the water lifted up off the page and flowed backwards into the glass. _Wowsers,_ you thought. _So that wasn't a dream._ Filled with a wave of sudden reckless impulsivity, you took the glass in one hand and smashed it against the hardwood floor. Shards of glass scattered all across the ground and rolled underneath your bed.

"Max!" Called your mom from downstairs. "What in the world is going on up there?"

You felt foolish for a moment, then steeled your concentration again. You reached out your hand and found it didn't take much willpower to trigger the same effect. In awe, you watched the tiny glass explosion reverse itself, the shards recombining and water re-filling itself in the cup. The glass returned itself safely to your desk as you released your control. You felt a giddy excitement well up inside you.

_Holy cow... I can rewind time!_

Your mind spun with all the possibilities this newfound power granted you. It was as though some unseen genie granted a wish you didn't know you'd been making. All of your issues could be solved now that you had this ability. Say something dumb? Rewind it away! Made a clumsy mistake? Just turn back the clock and make it so that it never happened! It was like you had a cosmic undo button at your disposal that you could use whenever you wanted.

For the first time in a long, long while, you were excited to go back to school the next day. Then, as you stood over your desk, you saw a drop of something red fall onto the white sheet of paper underneath you. You reached up to scratch your nose and your fingers came away bloody. _Huh. Just a nosebleed_. It didn't hurt, though. Probably just a coincidence; cold season was right around the corner. You grabbed a stack of tissues and mopped it up. As you held the wad of papers to your face, a wave of tiredness passed over you. You sat down on your bed.

 _Maybe I'm just shocked from the realization that I've got superpowers_ , you thought. It was hard to keep your eyes open. Well, it couldn't hurt to rest for a little while, right? You could plan out all the cool things you'd be able to do with your power. Like know the answer before the teacher asks, or have all the time in the world to think up a witty comeback...

Without being aware of it, you fell deeply asleep.

 

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_"Hey, Max... earth to Max," said a voice beside your head._

_You stirred and sat up. You found yourself in the midst of a vast, unearthly space, stretching as far to the horizon as your eyes could see. It looked to be made of mirrors, angular shards of flat glass, floating weightlessly through the void surrounding you. The ground beneath your body was composed of the same reflective surface. As you moved, you saw shards of your own face reflected back at you from every angle._

_"Wowsers... is this a dream?" you looked around yourself in awe. It sure didn't look like you were in the waking world. Never in your life had you been in control of your thoughts like this while dreaming, though. "What is this place?"_

_"You're dreaming, but also not really. We're in our space," said the voice. You turned and looked and saw -- yourself. Or at least, she looked similar enough to you. Maybe a bit older, with shorter hair, but otherwise she may as well have been your reflection. She was perched atop a glassy precipice not far from where you lay on the floor. Realizing you looked foolish lying on the ground, you picked yourself up to your feet and approached her._

_"Who are you?" you asked the woman who looked just like you. "How do you know my name? Um, what do you mean, 'our space'?"_

_"I'm Maxine," she said. "I'm another version of you. There is an infinite number of possible worlds, and this is the place in between dimensions, where they overlap."_

_Your right hand twitched. "Is this... because I can rewind time? Is that the reason I'm here?"_

_Maxine nodded. "In every universe, for every version of Max Caulfield that exists, there is the possibility that you can awaken to this power and enter this space."_

_"Why?"_

_She shrugged. "Beats me. It just happened to me one day. Some of us had it triggered by a certain event, some awakened to it naturally, while others never discovered they had it at all."_

_"You said 'us'... are there more than just you and me? Different... versions of ourselves?"_

_"Yeah. I'd say there's an infinite number of us, or close to it," Maxine said. "Of course, I haven't met most of them... we can only make contact when both of us are dreaming. That's when the barriers between universes are the thinnest, so we can communicate across them."_

_"Huh..." You turned the concept over in your mind. Then you looked up at Maxine again. "Are you here to teach me how to use my powers?"_

_Maxine laughed. "I'll do what I can. Mostly though, I'm here to give you a warning."_

_"A-- a warning?" Fear flared up inside you._

_"Relax," she said. "I made it sound worse than it is. Basically, your powers have drawbacks, so you should be careful with how you use them."_

_"Okay," you said, "What should I be aware of?"_

_"Your time travel is a physical ability, so using it will tire you out," she said. "You probably over-used it on your first go around and passed out because of it, and wound up here."_

_You thought back to what you'd been doing right before you fell asleep. "Uh... yeah," you admitted sheepishly._

_"Don't worry about it; you'll be back to normal again when you wake up," she said. "But you'll need to be careful. If you rewind too far back, you'll start to get injured internally. Your head will hurt, your nose and ears will bleed, stuff like that. You'll pass out before you can do any lasting damage to yourself, but you won't be able to use time travel for a while after that, so be cautious."_

_"Okay. I think I got it," you said. Don't over-use it. Right._

_"Also, time travel burns a lot of calories, so you're going to need to eat more than before," she said. "Personally, I like to go back for seconds, then rewind before I go back for thirds. Nobody else knows why the food keeps disappearing." She grinned._

_"So... the food stays in your body?" You didn't want to imagine the alternative._

_Maxine nodded. "Yep. Anything in or on your body is unaffected by time manipulation. Which brings me to the next thing... you're gonna stop aging."_

_"What?!"_

_"Yeah... we didn't figure this out for years, for obvious reasons," she said. "Basically, time no longer affects you the same way it does everyone else. Your hair and nails and stuff will still grow, and you can get injured, and probably even killed, but your body will stay the way it was the minute you awakened your powers. So, congrats, you're sixteen forever now."_

_"Aw, man..." you said, looking down at your body disappointedly. Goodbye, dreams of ever getting bigger boobs. Still, you figured it was a fair trade for demi-godlike powers over time and destiny._

_"Lastly... there is this other thing," Maxine said, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "We call it the Strangeness. It's not something that happens to us, exactly, but rather to the world around us."_

_"What is it?"_

_"It's hard to describe... we don't know exactly what causes it, and the effects are different every time, but I have a theory," Maxine said. "See, because of our ability, we're sometimes faced with choices that have a long-standing impact on the timeline. You could say our actions have more consequences than everybody else's. So, every time we make a decision that alters fate in some major way... like, say, saving someone who was otherwise gonna die, or using your knowledge of the future to change something in the past... it builds up a ton of potential energy. That energy getting released... I think that's what causes the Strangeness."_

_"You still haven't said what it is, exactly," you said._

_"That's because it's different every time. And it doesn't affect just you -- other people can see it, too. I'm talking crop circles, mysterious animal deaths, unusual weather, unexpected astral phenomena... that kind of thing. It can be dangerous, sometimes, although mostly it's just weird." She gave a shrug. "My advice is, don't try and mess with the timeline too much. You won't like the consequences."_

_You blinked. "Okay..." So, there would be weird, vague consequences for using your powers, beyond the whole nosebleeds, passing-out, never-aging thing. That didn't exactly fill you with confidence._

_"But hey! That's it," said Maxine, hopping off the precipice. She approached you and rested a hand on your shoulder. "It's ok, Max. You've just awakened to something incredible. This power is your own, now. Cultivate it, master it, and make it your own. You're not alone, either. You'll have us to guide you through it and give advice. And when the time comes, you'll give advice to another version of yourself, too."_

_You still weren't exactly sure what was going on. But you were certain that this was the most significant thing that had ever happened in your life. "Um, thank you..." you said._

_She gave you a smile. "No problem. Welcome to the club, Max."_

 

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You awoke the following morning a different person from the one you were the night before.

As you ate breakfast with your family, you felt as though you could feel your new power humming below the surface of your skin. True to what Maxine had said, your appetite had tripled. When you went back for a second and then a third helping of scrambled eggs, your mom commented on it.

"Goodness, Max, you'd think we forgot to feed you last night! Where is this coming from?"

You shrugged, mouth full of eggs and toast. "'M jus' hungry," you told her. "S' delicious."

"All right, well, I don't want you hurting your stomach," she said, concerned. You began to understand why Maxine said she'd rewind her extra helpings of dinner.

As you sat at the table, you mulled over the implications of your newfound power. _If I'm the only person in the world that can do this, does that mean nobody else has free will? Are they stuck living their lives a certain way forever, and only I have any actual power to change any of it?_ You were so out of your depth; you'd need to be a philosopher to understand all of this.

 _Wait a minute_ , you thought. _I have literally all the time in the world_ . You could read as many books as you wanted to, then rewind to get back the time, but keep the knowledge of having read them. _Great, I'm the most boring person ever. I have these awesome powers, and I'm thinking of using them to do my homework more efficiently._ You sighed. This was why you didn't have friends.

 _But that could change, too._ You were already thinking about how you could use your abilities to better navigate conversations. But you needed to be subtle about it, otherwise they might get suspicious you were hiding something.

You'd already decided not to tell anybody else about this power, not even your parents. This secret was yours to keep.

You had your first opportunity to exercise your powers before you even arrived at school. As the bus pulled up to your stop and you stepped aboard, you were greeted by the usual chorus of taunts from the assholes who sat towards the front.

"Hey Maxine," said the boy, whose name was Shane, "You gonna sit in the corner and cry again today, like you always do? Because you haven't got any friends?" His meathead friend beside him sniggered thickly. Your usual response would be to ignore them, pushing past to sit in the back of the bus, and draw until you reached the school. But today was different. Today, they had picked a fight with a girl with superpowers.

"No, Shane, I won't," you said, newly courageous. _If I mess this up, I can just rewind,_ you told yourself. "I think _you'll_ be needing the back seat to cry in today, and I don't want to take that away from you. And for the record, it's Max, never Maxine."

Shane looked at you like you'd started speaking in tongues. "The fuck? What's wrong with you?" He stood up from his seat as the bus lurched into motion, pulling away from the curb. "You think you can talk to me like that, loser? Bet you won't act so high and mighty when I throw your little art book out the window," he said, and made a lunge for your sketch pad. As his hand closed around the spine of your book, you held out your right hand, willing time to flow backwards.

In that moment you realized two things: you probably could have resolved this without Rewinding, and your powers did not work properly on a moving vehicle.

More specifically, they worked exactly as they were supposed to: Your body and the items on your person were unaffected, but the bus and everybody on board began to move backwards in time. The velocity of the moving bus continued to affect you, however, so as a result you felt yourself thrown suddenly forward, phasing through the front of the bus and falling out onto the street below. You landed hard on your tailbone, the shock of the impact sending waves of staticky pain through your body. As you sat up, swearing under your breath, you found yourself face-to-face with the blinding headlights of the bus, which was now moving towards you at full speed.

"No!!" You cried out, stretching out your hand. The bus froze, before moving backwards in time. You concentrated, head pounding as the bus moved all the way back to its stop. You released your grip on time, but the headache remained. As you picked yourself up off the street and made your way over to the doors of the bus again.

The driver looked at you, concerned. You heard Shane's jeers again.

"Hey Maxine," he said, "What're you doing, lying in the middle of the road? You trying to kill yourself? That's fucked up," he said.

You rolled your eyes and ignored him, heading to the back of the bus. Between the painful ache in your lower back and the pounding in your head, you were in no mood to think of any witty comebacks. You just wanted to rest until you arrived at school.

As you settled down in the back of the bus, a wave of dizziness overcame you. You laid your head against the uncomfortable seat rest and closed your eyes.

 

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_When you opened your eyes, you found yourself in the vast mirrored space again._

_"Huh?" You scanned the area around you. All you could see were shards of your own reflection; Maxine from last night was nowhere in sight. "How did I get here?"_

_You heard a giggle from over your shoulder, so you turned towards the source of the noise. Sure enough, it was a girl who looked like a version of you. Unlike Maxine, this version of yourself looked way younger; perhaps only ten or eleven. She had her hair pulled back in a ponytail, and was still wearing braces. You silently thanked your parents for letting you get those removed before you started high school._

_"You messed up big time," Younger Max said in a teasing tone. You shot her an unamused look._

_"I didn't know any better," you said defensively. "I just got these powers yesterday."_

_Younger Max rolled her eyes at you. "Man. I know we're supposed to be the same person and all, but you are way stupider than I was when my powers awakened. I guess age really doesn't equal smarts."_

_"HEY!" You protested. This younger version of you was very quickly getting on your nerves._

_"Didn't anyone explain to you how it works? Your Rewind won't affect you, only the world around you. So if you're on a moving platform, you'll go, like, this," she explained, and gestured with her hands, moving them rapidly past each other and blowing a raspberry while she did. "Pffffbt. That's what'll happen to your body. You're lucky you weren't on an airplane. Would've been insta-death."_

_A chill ran up your spine. "I saw Maxine last night," you said. "She told me about, uh, having physical limits, and how I was gonna stop aging, and the Strangeness..." you stopped. "Wait, how did you know what happened to me? Can you see what I'm doing?"_

_Younger Max reached out and touched one of the floating mirrors, spinning it around at the touch of her finger. "Yeah... I get bored, so sometimes I like to watch from here, just to see how badly my other selves manage to mess everything up. It's funny."_

_You looked at Younger Max closely. "...How old are you, exactly?"_

_"Older than you," she said, crossing her arms. "Meaning I have way more experience than you, so you should listen to what I have to say."_

_"Huh... so, wait, you'll always look like you're ten? What do your mom and dad think?"_

_"Don't -- this isn't about me," Younger Max said. "This is about you, and how you suck at time travel so much that you nearly died and knocked yourself out on your first day."_

_"At least I have boobs," you told her. Petty, sure, but this younger self was getting on your nerves._

_Younger Max stuck out her tongue. "Oh yeah? Well, I never have to worry about getting my period, so there."_

_You spent a few seconds thinking of a comeback. "Well, a-at least I still have a chance of getting a boyfriend," you said._

_To your surprise, Younger Max laughed in your face. "Ha ha ha -- a_ boy _friend? Wowsers, Max, you have so much to learn," she said._

_"What does that mean?" You asked, but your voice sounded distant. The mirrored shards of your space were already spinning and disintegrating, moving the Younger Max out of view._

_"Hello? Hello?!"_

 

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You opened your eyes and found yourself in an unfamiliar location. You were lying curled up on some sort of soft bed, staring at a curtain in front of you. You sat up, disoriented, and pushed aside the curtain to try and get your bearings. You were in a darkened room with several other empty cots; on the wall was a poster advising you to cover your nose and mouth when you sneezed.

 _Ah,_ you thought. _I'm in the nurse's office._ You reached underneath your cot for your book bag; sure enough, there it was along with your sketchbook, which was blessedly untouched from the morning's events. You felt fine - no trace of a headache - so you stepped out from the dark infirmary and into the lobby.

The school nurse looked up at you as you entered. "Oh, Maxine!" She said, relief in your voice. "So good to see you up and about. Are you feeling quite well?"

"I'm fine, thanks," you said, too shy to correct her on your name. After a moment of consideration, you asked, "what time is it?"

"It's eleven-thirty, sweetie," she said in a gentle tone with just a hint of condescension. "Are you certain you're all right? Your bus driver found you asleep in the back of the bus after everyone else disembarked. I was quite worried when you wouldn't wake up. We almost called your parents."

"Yeah -- I'm fine, really," you said again. Then, since you felt she wouldn't accept your story without an excuse, you told her, "I pulled an all-nighter studying for a test this afternoon."

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather head home? I'm sure your teacher would let you take the test another time if you're unwell."

You knew she meant well, but her patronizing was starting to get on your nerves. "I'm sure. That rest was all I needed," you told her. "I gotta go -- I'm late for class," you said, and slipped out of the office before she could stop you.

As you walked down the hallway, you chewed your lip in worry. You'd inadvertently missed two classes that day, and it was currently halfway through your third period. Going to the remainder of that class would be pointless, and you didn't want to draw undue attention to yourself by entering while class was in progress. So, naturally, you did what you usually did, and climbed the stairs up to your favorite art studio.

Finally isolated and in your element, you reflexively got out your sketch paper and drawing tools without even thinking about it. Only when you were staring at the blank page in front of you did you remember you'd come to think, not to draw. Still, you started to doodle, letting the stress flow out of you through the pencil as you thought about your situation.

 _Okay, day one of superpowers, not so great so far_ , you mused as you let your pencil do what it wanted, tracing abstract designs and spirals on the sheet of paper. _I went ahead and bit off more than I can chew, without understanding the full extent of my powers_. Your powers were complex, and you realized you needed practice. You recalled what Maxine had said last night, about there being physical limits.

 _The problem is, I have no idea when I'm about to hit my limit,_ you thought, drawing a spiral on the page before you. By the time you started to get headaches and nosebleeds, it was often too late -- those were signs you were about to pass out. If only you had some sort of visual indicator... some way to easily tell how much time-travel you had left, so to speak. You chewed on your eraser and thought hard.

 _Maybe a tattoo... a magical one_ , you mused to yourself. Hey, you had superpowers now; anything was possible. And you'd always wanted a tattoo. One of your dreams had always been to become a tattoo artist... that is, if you weren't so shy and unable to carry on a conversation due to your social anxiety.

 _Wait a sec_ . It didn't _have_ to be just a dream, anymore, now that you had the world in your hand. You were given these powers without any sort of obligation; you could use them to follow any dream you chose.

 _I don't want to be a superhero, or to rule the world... but I_ do _want to keep making art,_ you thought. Just because you had these abilities didn't mean you needed to stop doing what you loved. It just meant you had a bigger chance of achieving your dreams than before.

You cracked your knuckles and stretched. All big dreams start with daily discipline, your dad once told you. That was why you drew in your sketchbook every day. And so, that was why you were going to start small, if you were going to master this power.

You drew a spiral on the paper. Then you rewound time, and watched it slowly disappear off the page. You drew it again, and once more undid it with your powers. Draw. Rewind. Draw. Rewind. You figured it was a bit like doing push-ups. You practiced rewinding slower, then more quickly. You found that if you concentrated, you could freeze time for a moment, although doing so tired you out more than usual. You'd gotten an unexpected rest that morning, but it wouldn't do to make yourself pass out _again_ before the end of the day. Then the nurse really _would_ call your family.

After the subjectively longest 15 minutes of your life, the bell rang, signaling the end of the class period. You packed up your stuff and told yourself you wouldn't play any more with your powers until your next rest. _Bit by bit, day after day,_ you thought.

You _would_ master this power, as Maxine said, and make it your own.

 

@@@

 

_You woke up in your dream space again, the infinite plane of mirrors a now-familiar sight._

_It had been more than a month following the awakening of your power. You found yourself waking up in this place more often than not when you fell asleep, as well as every time you knocked yourself out by over-using your powers. Fortunately, that had stopped occurring so frequently as you'd gotten a better feel for your limits. Landing in this place gave you time to think and reflect, but as you discovered, it had other uses as well._

_Standing up and stretching, you checked to see if any other Max was there. You would sometimes encounter your alternate selves passing through the space, which was shared between all of you. Your other selves were often teenagers, but not always; typically female, but not universally; occasionally helpful but just as often annoying or cryptic. You started to keep notes on them, and grew friendly with a few. This time, though, none appeared. That was fine by you; you had other plans for this place, which were easier to do without unnecessary distractions._

_You held out your hand towards one of the reflective shards that comprised your surroundings and concentrated on it. As you focused, the shard responded to your attention, rotating to face you and expanding in size to fill your field of view. The image reflected on it, at first just a blur of color, began to sharpen until you could see the image more clearly._

_Before you was an image of a lighthouse at sunset, a beautiful yet unfamiliar view. Seagulls wheeled aimlessly above, silhouetted against the orange sky. You waved your hand and the image changed; this time, it showed a blue butterfly, perched on a metallic surface, its wings gently fluttering. The details of the image were more vivid than even the highest-resolution camera could produce. It felt more real than reality itself. You wished you could bring your sketchpad into the dream space, so that you could capture these images in real-time. The next best thing you could do would be to memorize every detail so that you could replicate it when you woke up._

_You reached out to touch the mirror, hoping to get more of a clue about why it was showing this to you. The image rippled like a pond disturbed by a stone, changing again. This time, you found yourself eye-to-eye with your own reflection._

_"Hey, uh, Max?" You asked hesitantly, waving. It was kind of a strange way for one of your alternate selves to appear, but then again, everything about this was strange. The Max in the mirror mimicked your motions. You frowned. Was it broken? Or was this alternate Max just messing with you? She looked exactly like you did, right down to the clothes you were wearing that day._

_You mentally kicked yourself. Of_ course _the mirror was acting like a mirror. You weren't seeing one of your alternate selves at all; this was just a reflection of you. You'd probably seen all that it wanted to show you that night. Just as you were about to dismiss it with a wave of your hand, though, the Max in the mirror moved on her own. She brought up one finger to her lips, smiling a secretive smile._

_You froze. You weren't accustomed to your reflection moving on its own, even if this was a dream. The Max in the mirror reached into the space behind her and pulled out an unfamiliar instrument. It took you a moment to register what it was. Then it clicked: the object in her hand was a tattoo gun._

_The Max in the mirror continued to smile, and beckoned you to come closer. She stretched out a hand -- her left, your right -- and placed it against the mirror's surface. Figuring she was inviting you to do the same, you placed your hand up against the glass opposite hers. In her other hand, she held up the tattoo gun, placing the point against the back of her hand. She switched the device on._

_You felt a sudden spike of pain, causing you to wince. You clenched your jaw and continued to hold your hand against the surface of the mirror as the design she was tracing began to appear on the back of your hand, too. Through your watery eyes, you saw the design begin to emerge: an inky black spiral on the rapidly reddening surface of your skin._

_You stood, hand outstretched, trembling as you endured the sensations, until the design was complete. The Max in the mirror switched off her tattoo gun and pulled it away, still smiling that mysterious smile. You lifted your hand off the mirror and shook it out, trying to shed the painful tingling sensations. After a moment, you looked back at your reflection again._

_"Hey, uh... thanks," you said to her. You weren't sure what just happened, but you still felt the phantom pricking sensations of the tattoo, which had hurt way more than a dream normally should. You got the impression it was permanent._

_The Max in the mirror faded until only her smile remained, and you woke up._

 

@@@

 

From that point on, becoming a tattoo artist felt less like a pipe dream and more like your destiny.

The spiral tattoo remained on the back of your hand in the waking world. For weeks, you explained it away by telling people it was drawn-on, until you finally worked up the courage to admit it was permanent, and you'd done it to yourself. Your parents had acted shocked and concerned, but then when you expressed your seriousness about becoming a professional tattoo artist, they calmed down a bit. It was the first time you'd shown any desires for the future other than meek acceptance of the status quo, and you knew they cared about your happiness.

It helped that your artwork was becoming too good to ignore. Even your non-art teachers started to comment on it. Your doodles spilled out into the margins and backs of worksheets, your idle hands straining to populate every blank space they came across with images taken from dreams. It didn't matter the medium; whether it was pencils, paints, or inks, illustration came naturally to you. But you felt an itch inside you now. You could visualize the tattoo gun in the mirror, and you knew you could never truly be satisfied until your artwork found its permanent home on someone else's skin.

At your parents' insistence, as a form of compromise with them over their hesitance and trepidation about your career choice, you applied to art school. Really, you wanted to get started working in a tattoo shop right away, but for their sake you agreed to try it for a few years. You left your high school before your senior year, transferring into a more prestigious art academy on a full ride scholarship.

Meanwhile, you honed your time travel abilities even further. As you expected, the spiral tattoo wasn't just a symbol of your life's purpose: it served as an easy indicator for how much power you had left inside you. Although you were still limited to around five minutes of Rewind in any given day before you needed to recharge, knowing exactly how much time you had was critical to helping you avoid over-using your powers.

But, as you came to realize, rewinding time wasn't even your most useful ability. You discovered that the mirrors in your dream space could reveal images to you that would tell you things impossible to know otherwise: images of the past and the future, and intimate details from the lives of persons you knew and didn't know. You couldn't control what it would show you, but the mirrors always displayed exactly what you needed to see.

That was how you found your first tattoo.

The boy who would receive your first tattoo was a stranger to you at first. An upperclassman at your school, you'd seen him working at the bar downtown, riding his red motorcycle around campus. He didn't know who you were, and you didn't even know his name; not until he started appearing in your dreams.

That was how you learned he had a sister. _Had_ , past-tense. They'd been separated fifteen years prior. Every night, he'd write a letter to her in a notebook; frenzied, worried, he'd ball it up and toss it in the trash. He had no idea if she was safe or alive or if she even remembered him. That uncertainty was daily torture for him.

Eventually, you worked up the courage to approach him. After several false starts (which you rewinded away), you told him that you were an artist looking for someone willing to help you with a project. Mystified, he agreed, and shortly thereafter became your first tattoo subject.

You already had an idea for the kind of image you wanted to illustrate on his shoulder blade: a stag beetle, shiny and black, crawling across a leaf stained with the colors of autumn. Strength and fortitude through constant change. You had procured a home tattoo kit and some inks by spending what little pocket money you had left from your parents, combined with your winnings from a recent art contest. You'd spent months practicing your pen stroke on various fruits and other skin-like surfaces. Plus, you had the additional benefit of having a built-in undo button if you made any mistakes.

It wasn't the actual tattoo you worried about. It was the part that came after.

The two of you sat in chairs in the center of his room for close to five hours. He played some of his favorite music for you as you concentrated, in a trance-like state, focused completely on drawing in the lines, then the shading, then the vivid colors. As soon as you finished the last stroke, you felt a magnetic pull from the tattoo, as though it were tugging at the core of your being. The spiral on the back of your hand pulsed with white light.

You held the image of his sister and fifteen years ago in your head, as you felt your consciousness leave this plane of linear time.

 

@@@

 

_You open your eyes and find yourself in a gray, timeless space. Shapes and figures of people stand frozen around you, and the only sound you hear is a singular, drawn-out ringing tone, as though every sound has been slowed down a million percent._

_Before you stands the boy who has received your tattoo in the present day. He's a small child now, only 5 years old, and there are tears shining in his eyes as he reaches out a hand desperately. You can see one parental figure holding him back. Then you look over to what he's reaching out towards._

_You see the girl -- his sister -- on the verge of stepping into a car. She's a few years older, and looks teary-eyed, too, but also somewhat resigned, as though she understands more about what is happening. She's looking back towards her brother, and you can see in her face that she knows there is the possibility they might never speak again._

_This is where you come in. You reach into your pocket and pull out a small slip of paper you'd prepared for this exact moment. Printed on it is the boy's name, a phone number that doesn't exist yet, and instructions to call in ten years' time. You move over to the girl and place the paper inside her outstretched hand, gently pressing on her fingers to curl them closed around it. You feel the scene ripple around you, and shapes and figures begin to move again. You feel an irresistible pull inside you, and you allow yourself to be drawn back into the present day._

 

@@@

 

You came back to yourself just in time to hear a knock at the door.

You took stock of where you were: still sitting cross-legged on the chair, the beetle tattoo fresh on your subject's skin. Nothing had drastically changed in the world that you could see. Then the knob on the door turned, and a new person poked their head in.

She had the same colored hair and facial features you remembered from your time leap to 15 years ago. But she was a grown woman, now, and she looked on her brother with fondness and a bit of exasperation.

"You done with your ratchet bootleg tattoo yet, li'l bro?" she asked, smiling fondly.

The boy shook his head. "It's not ratchet. Max is training to be a professional tattoo artist, so she knows what she's doing. It's done now, though, right?" He turned his head to look at you over his shoulder, wearing a bright smile you'd never seen on his face before. _He probably doesn't even understand why he's so happy_ , you thought, a warm feeling rising in your chest as well.

Then you realized he'd asked you a question. "Um, yeah, it's done," you said, your voice soft. He gave a whoop of excitement and got up to stretch and check out your design in the mirror. His sister joined him to look at it more closely.

You felt a sharp, piercing sensation on your own back, underneath your shirt. You winced, then hid your pained expression as the boy turned to face you again.

"Max, this looks amazing! You're the best," he said, shaking your hand. His sister voiced her approval as well.

"I'm glad you like it," you said, your head spinning. You were pleased but completely exhausted.

"I know you said you didn't want payment, but lemme at least buy you dinner," he said. "My treat."

You couldn't keep yourself from yawning. "Maybe later," you told him, packing up your tattoo kit. "I kind of really need a nap right now, though."

"Oh, of course! I'll text you later. That's a promise," he said, still grinning widely. "And hey, Max -- thanks again." He threw an arm around his sister's shoulder. "We'll see you around."

"See you," you said, struggling to keep your eyes open as you smiled and waved. You opened the door and stumbled back to your dorm room. As you collapsed on the bed, you felt the universe tilting around you.

 _I really did it_ , you thought. _I changed the timeline._ This, you knew, was your true power: the ability to fix people's lives with your art and change them for the better. You closed your eyes, exhausted but satisfied in a way you'd perhaps never felt before.

As you drifted off to sleep, you paid no mind to the itchy sensation on your back, nor the snowflakes which were drifting down from the sky on what was otherwise a warm afternoon in May.

You had nothing to fear from the Strangeness. You were on track to achieve your life's greatest dream. All was well.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for all the exposition; next chapter will return us to the present day and that sweet, sweet Pricefield goodness. That's a promise.
> 
> I've really wanted to explore time-travel mechanics in this story, and what they would mean on an individual level. As Max explains, her powers are slightly different in every iteration of herself, which is why they function differently in this AU than in canon. Well, her Rewind works similarly, but instead of a photo-based time jump ability, she uses her tattoos instead.


	11. Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back in the present day, Max and Chloe assess their situation and figure out what to do next. A desperate cry for help from a friend causes them to leap to her aid. Max dreams an important dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might notice that the rating of this fic has gone up (from T to M). That's not because of this chapter, but future chapters will have some more explicit content. Just a heads up.

Back in the present day, trapped in the shuttered bar under the red haze of the apocalyptic sky, Chloe sat and listened attentively as Max told her the story of how she'd awakened her powers and discovered what she could do.

At some point in her story, after Max mentioned her supernatural appetite, Chloe stopped her mid-explanation.

"So, wait, your powers mean you need to eat twice as much?" she asked.

Max nodded. "It's one of the harder things to hide..." she then gave a small, sly grin. "Of course, Brooke has yet to figure out why her sandwiches keep disappearing from the break room fridge."

Chloe gave a gasp of mock surprise. "Max! You scoundrel!" Max laughed behind her hand.

Chloe stood up from the booth where they were seated. "Wait a sec," she said, and ran into the kitchen. She came back a couple minutes later with several plates stacked high with sandwiches, which she'd put together using what was left in the fridge. Since there was no electricity, it was gonna go bad anyway, she reasoned. Her boss couldn't fault her for being pragmatic.

The sandwiches disappeared one after another as Max explained her alternate selves, her dream world, and the limits on her ability to travel in time. Chloe paid rapt attention, hanging on to every word. She felt as though she should be writing some of this down, but she hadn't brought her usual diary with her, so she took to scribbling down notes on the palm of her hand:

 

  * __Able to rewind time (up to 5 min)__


  * _"Other Maxes"_


  * _Spiral tattoo shows how much time she has left_


  * _Dream visions_



 

As Max reached the end of her explanation, recounting how she'd found her first tattoo subject after seeing the boy in her dream world, Chloe stopped her again.

"Does that always happen? Is that how you know when you're gonna do a tattoo on someone?" she asked, leaning in towards Max.

The artist nodded. "Yeah... I'll start seeing their face in my dreams a week or two before I meet them in person. Sometimes they'll come to see me in my studio, but other times I'll just run into them on the street, or in a coffee shop."

"Like Kate Marsh?"

"Yeah. In my dreams, I saw Kate in distress, and that's how I knew she needed help. The kind of help that only I could provide."

"Only you? Why? I mean, not that you aren't cool and special and awesome and all that... just..." Chloe's eyes searched Max's face for answers. "What happens when you give somebody a tattoo? Is it like your time travel?"

Max nodded. "Yes... it's a kind of time travel, but it's different from my Rewind. I think of it as my true power, actually," she said. "Each alternate version of myself that I've talked to has a slightly different kind of power. I think it's the life choices we make that determine how it works." She spread her right hand on the table, the spiral tattoo on its back facing upwards. "I have a special name for what I can do. I call it the Soul Window."

"Soul Window?" Chloe gave her a confused look.

Max's face flushed red. "It's, um, it's just-- just a name I came up with to describe it. I know it sounds kinda... I mean, I haven't really, um, said it out loud until just now, so..."

Chloe smiled. She reached out a hand and brushed Max's bangs out of her eyes. "Relax, babe. I think it sounds hella cool," she said.  _ Max looks so cute when she's flustered, _ she thought. "Tell me how your reality-warping super powers work."

Max seemed to calm down a bit. She took a deep breath. "It's my most powerful ability, since it lets me change time outside of the past five minutes. First, I need to do a tattoo on that person. Then, as long as I have a very specific time and place in mind... I can open up a time portal, sort of, that lets me travel back to that moment, even if it's many years ago, and... change something in the past."

Chloe looked at her, eyes wide. "You can travel  _ years _ back in time? What happens when you do that?"

"Well... that depends on who it is," Max said. "I reunited that boy and his long-lost sister. I made that video of Kate disappear. I helped someone escape an abusive relationship, saved a marriage, and prevented somebody from losing an arm. It only works once, so I save it for people who really need my help." Max looked aside. "I know that if I do it wrong, there can be unintended consequences, so... I try to be careful."

"Um... unintended consequences?"

Max nodded. She looked a little guilty. "Yeah... occasionally, there can be unexpected side-effects. Like, one of my clients was this woman, who was broken-hearted because she'd had her engagement ring stolen, and she'd broken up with her partner because of it. I travelled back in time to the day it was stolen, and put the ring in her parther's bag instead of hers. But when I returned to the present, she was engaged to somebody completely different!" She shook her head. "Guess things weren't gonna work out between them, no matter what..."

"I guess... but hey, wait a sec," said Chloe. "If you changed the timeline and got rid of the reason they came to you in the first place, then... how come they still have the tattoo after you're done?"

"That's a really good question, Chloe," Max said, giving a small smile although her expression remained weary. "You're right in a way. Changing time in the way I do... it creates inconsistencies in the timeline. Nature abhors a paradox, so when I interrupt the time stream, it has to correct itself in order to return the flow of time back to the right direction. Memories are one of the easiest things to change. Usually, people don't even remember why they came to get a tattoo in the first place. They just end up feeling better than they did before, but they don't know why."

Chloe remembered all the things she'd heard other people say about Max: how Kate had said Max had saved her, but was unable to explain how; and how Justin's friend Trevor had said that Jane Doe could grant wishes with magical tattoos.  _ Dude wasn't too far off from the truth _ .

But there was one question that continued to echo in the back of Chloe's mind. "So..." she began. She felt a strange nervousness building inside of her; she wasn't sure if she wanted to hear the answer. But she needed to ask anyway. "...Why choose me?"

Max fell silent. With her face tilted downward, Chloe couldn't read her expression. For a long moment, the only sound inside the bar was the distant wail of sirens in the stillness.

"...Max?"

She looked up, locking eyes with Chloe. Her blue eyes seemed to glow with intensity. Chloe's heart began pounding in her chest.

"Chloe..." she said. "You're different. From the very beginning... I knew you weren't like any of the others."

"What do you mean--" Chloe began to say. She was interrupted by her phone buzzing on the table. The loud sound, combined with her general anxiety over the situation, caused her to give an undignified yelp of surprise. She didn't have time to feel embarrassed, though, as she grabbed the phone and checked the caller ID.

_ Kate Marsh is calling... _

Her heart in her throat, Chloe quickly swiped to answer it and hit the button to play it on speaker..

"Kate?!"

"Chloe! Oh, thank the Lord," came Kate's voice from the other end. Chloe could hear her breathing heavily. She sounded terrified.

"Are you okay? Where are you?" she asked, listening intently.

"I'm-- I'm at home, but--" an ominous crash came from the other end of the line. "The-- I'm on the third floor, and there's-- there's a fire down below, and I can't get out," she said, sounding desperate. "Chloe, do you know where Max is?"

"She's with me," Chloe said. "We're together in a safe place. Where are you?"

Voice trembling with fear, Kate named an address, which Chloe wrote on her arm.  _ That's like twelve blocks from here, _ she thought to herself, mentally plotting it on a map.

"I-- I'm sorry to ask you like this, but, please," Kate begged, and Chloe heard another concerning noise from the other line. "Please... bring Max. I know she can help. You're my last hope," she said. "911 won't respond, you're the only person I've been able to contact, please, I'm praying but it's not--" her voice suddenly cut out as the line went silent.

"Kate! Kate, can you hear me?!" Chloe's knuckles went white around the phone. All she could hear was a dial tone on the other end of the line. "Kate, if you get this, we're coming to get you, okay? Hang in there!"

She looked over at Max, who had already stood up from the booth. She was pulling on a hoodie over her blood-stained tee shirt. Her eyes shone with determination.

"We gotta save Kate," Chloe said. Max nodded in agreement.

The two of them approached the door, which Chloe unlocked using the keys Victoria had given her. As they stepped outside for the first time, Chloe felt a nauseous twist in her stomach as she looked up at the darkened sky. Its appearance had changed since the morning; rather than a uniform red color, the sky was now patterned with red and purple blotches, as though it were bruised. What little light came from the sky wasn't enough to illuminate the darkened streets and broken husks of cars in the road. The air hung still, no wind, with no sound except for the distant wail of sirens and their own breathing. It felt as though the world itself was sick and dying.

Max grabbed her elbow, and she felt the hum of energy as the smaller woman pressed into her side. "Stay close to me," she said. Chloe could feel her shivering.

"Of course. You know I will," Chloe promised. Her hand found Max's and she twined their fingers together. "C'mon, Max. Let's get moving."

It was hard finding their way through the streets in the dark. They picked their way through the rubble, always holding tight to the other's hand. Chloe stubbed her toe on an unseen piece of cinderblock and swore loudly. She wanted to shine her phone's flashlight, but she also needed to conserve battery power -- with no available way to charge it, her phone was their only lifeline to Kate, Victoria, and the rest of the world.

"Hey, Max, any way you could travel back in time to warn me  _ before _ I break all my toes?" Chloe asked.

Max shook her head. "I don't want to use my rewind on something like that..." she looked away. "Not that I want to see you get hurt, it's just, I only have so much time, and I might need it to save someone... also..." She looked nervously up at the sky. "I might just end up making things worse..."

Chloe frowned. "You know that this isn't your fault, right? What could you possibly have done that would have caused this?"

"I don't know, but... the Strangeness..." Max's grip on her hand tightened. "Maybe it was building up, all my life, all the times I used my time travel, and now it... broke loose, or something."

"That doesn't make any freaking sense. I mean, science!" Chloe stopped walking. They had reached an alleyway where their path was blocked. A car had somehow been wedged sideways against the brick walls on either side. Chloe hopped up on its hood and extended a hand to help Max up as well, then they jumped down the other side.

Max's hand found Chloe's again immediately. She gave her a skeptical look. "I don't think science applies to this, exactly..."

"Well, no, duh, but that's not really what I mean," she said. "I used to love doing science experiments, back when I actually gave a fuck about school. And... in any good science experiment, you gotta isolate the variable. If all this crap really did happen because of you -- which I still don't believe -- but if it did, then something's different this time."

"I didn't even change the past... at least, not using my Soul Window," Max said. "I guess I stopped that car last night from hitting that woman and child... I used my Rewind to get out safely from that earthquake at the Vortex Club party... oh, and I guess I saved you from falling off your skateboard a couple weeks ago."

"Oh, yeah," Chloe said, recalling the night they had walked home together. It seemed a world away, now. "I remember that."

Max gave her an odd look. "You do?"

"Yeah. I thought it was really weird, at first. I had this kind-of memory of falling down and fucking up my arm. Like a flashback to something that never happened," Chloe said. "It happened again, actually, after the earthquake. I remembered being trapped underground."

"Chloe... that's not normal. You shouldn't know anything from timelines that were erased, even memories," Max told her, looking concerned.

"Maybe I'm just special?" Chloe asked.

Max gave her a long look. "More than you know," she said, cryptically.

Chloe wanted to ask her about it, but just then, the two of them turned a corner and came face-to-face with a sea of fire. After a second, she realized it was just a pool of gasoline that had been lit ablaze. Movement in the corner of her eye made Chloe do a double-take, until she realized it was just the shadows cast from the flickering light of the fire. She gave an involuntary shiver.

"Hey, don'tcha think it's kinda weird that we haven't seen, like,  _ anybody _ on the streets? It's like this place is a friggin' ghost town," Chloe said. "I was at least expecting to see some looters and rioters and shit. What kind of post-apocalypse is this? How long before shit literally becomes Mad Max up in here?" She looked sideways at Max. "Pun intended, by the way."

Max rolled her eyes, smiling at Chloe's joke about her name. Then her expression grew serious again. "Maybe they're hiding?" she suggested. Neither of them wanted to consider the alternative: that there was nobody left in the city except for them.

"This all feels way too familiar... is that fucked up?" Chloe asked as they picked their way around the blaze. "It's like, sometimes I dream of Arcadia Bay, after it's been destroyed by a storm," she said. Her eyes flicked to her tattoo. "This is kinda like that, only bigger... and we didn't even get any warning first." She paused a moment to consider. "Well, other than that one dream I had..."

"You had a dream about this?" Max looked at her.

"Sort of... I think I had it on the night after the earthquake," Chloe recalled. "It started the same way it usually does... I'm standing by the lighthouse, looking out at the storm. Then the sky cleared, and instead of the ocean I saw the Portland skyline. I saw the stars grow bright and then fall from the sky, just like last night. The whole city was lit on fire... Then one of the stars fell on top of me, and I woke up as it hit."

Max gave a small gasp. "Then your dreams  _ are _ connected," 

“Well, yeah,” Chloe said with a shrug. “I thought that was obvious.”

Max frowned, thinking hard. “The fact that you've been getting visions too… and the version of you with blue hair who keeps appearing in my dreams… Chloe, I think you’re part of this, too. You, me, this storm, and time… and…”

“Max. Calm down.” Chloe squeezed her hand. “Stop freaking out a sec. Let’s focus on saving Kate, then we can find out what the hell is going on.”

“I need to go to sleep… I need to get into my dream space again. One of my other selves will know what to do,” she said, although she didn't sound totally convinced.

“Let's just stick to the plan for now,” Chloe repeated. She felt anxious that she couldn't seem to calm Max down. They passed a street sign that indicated they were nearing Kate’s address. The flickering lights of fire and the sound of sirens were closer than before. Chloe just hoped they’d arrive in time.

As they drew closer, they heard another sound -- voices! Chloe's heart rate increased. So there  _ were _ other people who had survived the firestorm! Maybe they could help them rescue Kate? Chloe and Max broke into a sprint to bring themselves around the corner and across the street Kate's apartment block. As soon as she beheld the scene before her, though, Chloe's stomach dropped like a stone.

The apartment block was completely ablaze. The five-story building had smoke and flames pouring out of the windows on every floor. The glassy remains of a fallen star lay shattered around its base, having swiped the side of the apartment and torn off the fire escape in one go, before igniting the lowest floor. People were gathered in the street nearby, some holding their things, having evacuated the building with whatever they could grab. Chloe scanned the crowd, searching for a sign of Kate, but finding nothing. While some of the apartment residents were too shell-shocked to even register what was happening, others were pointing up at the roof of the building, and shouting.

That was when Chloe saw the lone figure that was standing on the roof.

As the flames licked up the sides of the building, Kate stood amongst the fire and pouring smoke, trapped on the roof of the apartment complex with no exit. Some of the people at the street level were telling her to jump; but with nothing to break her fall, a drop from five stories up would cause serious injury -- or worse. No firefighters or aid would be coming in time. They needed to act fast if they wanted to save her.

Max's eyes met Chloe's and she nodded. In a blink of an eye, Max disappeared from under Chloe's sight and reappeared on the first landing of the fire escape of an adjacent building. Moving impossibly fast -- because she was slowing down time for herself -- Max sped up the staircase and emerged on the roof of the apartment building next door.

Seeing her on the edge of the adjacent building, Chloe felt panic seize her. The gap between the buildings was at least twelve feet wide, and one of them was on fire. As far as Chloe knew, Max's powers didn't extend to physical strength, and jumping that distance seemed beyond her ability. Not to mention, making that jump a second time,  _ with Kate _ , would be damn near impossible. Chloe squinted up at Max. It was hard to see in the dim firelight. Was she afraid?

Max disappeared from the edge of the roof for a split-second. When she reappeared, she was holding a long, flat object that was hard to make out in the gloom. Focusing, she could tell that it was a ladder. But it was way too heavy for Max to carry on her own; she lifted it, attempting to place it across the gap and create a bridge, but then Chloe saw her stumble, and the ladder tilted backwards. A crumbling sound emanated from the building that was on fire. Kate was running out of time.

Chloe couldn't just stand there and watch.  _ Max and Kate need my help _ , she thought, and suddenly her feet were moving on their own. They clanged against the metal stairs of the fire escape as she sprinted up to the top as fast as her legs could carry her. When she emerged, Max turned to face her, lit from behind by the blaze.

"Chloe! You came to help Kate?"

"I couldn't -- leave you -- all on your own up here," Chloe gritted out through panting breaths. She moved over towards the ladder and hefted it using both arms. "C'mon, let's save Kate."

Max grabbed another part of the ladder, nodding. Together, they brought it over to the edge of the building and began extending it to the building on the other side. Kate, seeing them, came over towards the edge, only to have to stumble back as a crack formed in the roof beneath her feet. They extended the ladder over the edge of the adjacent building and then dropped it with a loud clang, forming a makeshift bridge.

"Hang in there!" Max called out across the gap. "I'm coming to get you!"

"Max, wait," Chloe said, reaching out to grab her wrist. "You realize if you fall, it's game over, don't you?"

Despite the calamity, a calm smile appeared on Max's face. "Chloe, don't forget..." she held up the back of her hand, showing her spiral tattoo. "It's not game over. I've got extra lives, remember?"

Then she blinked out of existence and reappeared on the roof of the other building.

Kate gave a gasp as Max spontaneously appeared beside her.  _ She's not bothering to be discreet with her powers anymore _ , Chloe thought. She watched as Max laid a reassuring hand on Kate's elbow.

Kate was holding something bundled in her arms. Upon closer inspection, the object revealed itself to be a small, white rabbit with black ears.

"I'm so sorry... I know it's impractical, but... I couldn't abandon Alice," she said, clutching the bunny closer to her chest.

"I know, Kate," Max said. "It's okay. I've got you now. We're gonna get you out of here."

The blazing apartment building beneath them started to groan and crumble, and more cracks appeared in the roof. "Get a move on, or that place is gonna blow!" called Chloe from the other roof. Max had led Kate to the edge and was talking to her in a low, steady tone.

"Keep your eyes forward. Focus on where you're going. I've got you. I won't let anything bad happen to you. Listen to the sound of my voice. That's it," Max said, as Kate took her first step onto the ladder, with Max following immediately behind her and holding on to her elbows. With Kate not able to balance herself as easily, having her arms wrapped around the rabbit, and a 20-meter drop to the alley below, it was dangerous going. Chloe held the ladder steady on her end, and she could feel the vibrations from their feet and from the crumbling building on the other side.

Max stood behind her, arms wrapped around Kate's elbows, guiding her one step at a time. Chloe watched Max's outlines flicker and jump as she corrected Kate's balance, predicting where she would overbalance and using her Rewind to keep her steady. Chloe's heart pounded in her throat as she tried not to picture what would happen if one of them slipped, or if Max ran out of Rewind. The ladder shuddered and shook underneath her grip as Max and Kate took careful, deliberate steps across the gap.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Kate set foot on the solid lip of the roof below. Chloe reached out to help guide her down safely. She was breathing heavily and trembling like a leaf in the wind, still with her forearms wrapped around the white rabbit. She sunk down to her knees as soon as her feet touched solid ground.

Behind her, Max stumbled over the edge of the ladder. As quickly as she could react, Chloe reached out to grab her. She wobbled on her feet but Chloe steadied her, with one arm around her waist and the other reaching out to cup her cheek.

"Oh, Chloe," she gasped, clutching at Chloe's forearms as though she was hanging on for dear life, although they had reached relative safety. "I didn't know if -- I wasn't sure that I was gonna make it, but, seeing you on the other side, I..."

Without hesitating, Chloe pulled her in and kissed her, hot-mouthed and desperate, tasting the coppery tang of adrenaline on her tongue and the soot and smoke of the burning building.

Max clung to her, breath coming urgently into Chloe's mouth as she kissed back, hungrily, as though Chloe was everything she needed to survive.

A cough from nearby caused the two to pull apart reluctantly. Kate was curled up on herself, coughing into one elbow in order to expel the smoke from her lungs. Max disentangled herself from Chloe in order to approach Kate's side and wrap an arm around her shoulders.

"Um, sorry," Chloe said, a blush coloring her face as she realized they'd been making out in full view of her. "We-- that is, um, Max and I, we're kind of, uhh..." She shook her head. "Never mind. Are you okay, Kate?"

"That's -- I'm fine," Kate said, although her voice was raspy from coughing. She looked up at them both, eyes shining. "You two... you really risked everything for me. Max, I don't know what I did to deserve this but... from the bottom of my heart, thank you."

"Of course, Kate. I would never abandon you," Max said, her voice hoarse as well. Chloe noticed the frown which remained on her face.  _ She still blames herself for the firestorm. She thinks this is all her fault. _ Then Chloe looked at the back of her hand with the spiral tattoo that she had rested on Kate's shoulder. The ink on the tattoo had all but disappeared.  _ Wait, doesn't that mean Max is gonna pass out soon? _

"Uhh, Max?" Chloe asked, hesitantly. "What about you? Are you doing okay? You might've overextended yourself out there..." she tapped the back of her own hand to indicate what she meant.

"I'm -- uhh," Max said, as she wobbled unsteadily. Kate looked up at her nervously. A droplet of blood ran from Max's nose into the corner of her mouth.

Immediately Chloe was at Max's side. She threw Max's arm over her shoulder, bending at the knees to provide her support. "Hang in there, Super Max. Just focus on staying awake, all right?" She looked over at Kate. "Hey. Max here kinda went past her limits, so she's probably gonna pass out soon. Help me get her down from this roof?"

"Of course, Chloe," Kate said, taking Max's other side with one arm while cradling her rabbit with the other. The three of them carefully stepped onto the fire escape and started making their way down to the ground. Chloe could feel Max starting to grow weary and lean against her, so she focused more of her strength into keeping her upright. Stair after stair, the trio made their way gradually down to the ground level.

As they reached the bottom of the apartment complex, they were greeted by cheers and applause. Apparently the people below had witnessed Max's daring rescue attempt. Someone approached Kate and offered her a blanket, which she accepted and wrapped around herself. A concerned-looking man wearing a reflective jacket approached Chloe and Max. "Are you ladies okay? Your friend looks hurt."

"She'll be okay. She needs someplace to rest," Chloe said. "Is there somewhere nearby she can lie down?"

"We set up a tent for people who suffered burns to get treated," the man said, pointing. "There should be some extra sleeping pads there."

"Thanks," Chloe said, as Max slumped further against her body. Looking at her, her eyes were barely open and her breathing was labored. She looked liable to lose consciousness at any second. "Hang in there. I'm gonna get you someplace safe where you can get some sleep," Chloe promised.

"Mmmkay," she muttered, face turned against the skin of Chloe's arm. Chloe summoned her remaining strength to practically drag her to the entrance of the tent. Ducking underneath the low zippered door, she saw several people covered by blankets or having their wounds treated. Over in the corner, she spied a bed that was empty. Stooping low underneath the fabric ceiling, she brought Max to the bed and helped her lie down on the soft covers.

Max's eyes fluttered closed, and she was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

 

@@@

 

_ You gasped awake, snapping to lucidity in an instant. As you sat up from the floor and gathered your bearings, you felt relief wash over you. You found yourself in a familiar location: you were back in your dream space, the mirrored abyss between dimensions. It had been weeks since you'd woken up here. Now that you were fully in control of your dreaming self, maybe you could finally figure out what was going on. _

_ Getting to your feet, you scanned the area around you, searching for another Max, someone with a different perspective who might offer up an explanation. You needed to be quick about it: time moved slower in the dream world than the waking one, meaning just a few minutes in this space would equal hours of sleep. You needed answers, and fast. _

_ "Max? Maxine? Maxwell? Is anyone there?" you called out. You listened intently, but no voices answered your call. The air, if there even was any air here, hung still and dead around you. Your other selves weren't responding. It was as though you were cut off completely from every other version of you in existence. _

_ Struggling to keep the despair at bay, you decided to try your other ability. If your other selves weren't forthcoming with information, then perhaps the mirrors would show you the truth of what was going on. You extended your right hand to the glassy shard nearest you and concentrated on it. It responded, rotating slowly towards you. You saw your reflection slide off its surface as it pivoted slowly and weightlessly through the air, growing until it was as large as you. _

_ As the mirror rotated to face you, you felt your heart sink even lower. It wasn't working. Your own reflection stared back at you, hopelessness in her eyes. The rain had soaked through her shirt and hair, and was running in rivulets down the side of her face. _

_ Wait a minute. Rain? _

_ With a cracking BOOM of thunder, your mirrored space shattered all around you. The glass shards spun off in all directions as you found yourself standing in another familiar scene: on the cliff beside the lighthouse, looking out at the storm which was bearing down on Arcadia Bay. The Other Max, who you'd thought was your reflection, looked at you with a weary expression in her eyes.  _

_ "It's you," You breathed, voice shaking. "You're... the original Max, aren't you? The one whose memories I've been seeing?" _

_ She looked at you, eyes hollow and devoid of emotion as the wind tousled her rain-soaked hair. Then she nodded mutely. _

_ "What happened? Do you know what caused the storm? What made the stars fall?" You took a step forward. The howling wind and rain battered your face. "Please, I need to reverse this, if there's a way..." _

_ The other you -- the Alpha Max -- lifted an arm and pointed towards the cliff's edge. In an instant, lightning split the sky, bright light filling your vision. As you blinked the dark spots out of your eyes, you saw another figure standing on the edge of the cliff. She was facing away from you, but her blue hair was unmistakable. _

_ "Chloe," you breathed. _

_ Alpha Max approached your side. Her previously empty eyes now burned with intensity -- of love and loss and desire -- as she looked over at Chloe. Then she turned towards you. _

_ "You found her," she said simply. _

_ "No -- there's no way Chloe is the cause of all this," you protested. "She doesn't have any powers. She couldn't have screwed up the timeline. It's not her fault!" _

_ "You're right," Alpha Max said. "It's not her. And it's not you. It's -- us." _

_ "Us?" _

_ "The two of us, together. Chloe and I. Chloe and you," she said. "The storm doesn't come if we're separated. But of course, you'd find her no matter what. We always find her, in the end." _

_ "How many times has this happened?" you ask. Alpha Max's face is impassive. "What can we do to stop it?!" _

_ She snapped her fingers, and the scene around you rippled. As though she'd torn off the wallpaper of reality, all the noise, the light, the wind and rain condensed into a singular point of light, which Alpha Max held between her thumb and forefinger. The two of you were left standing in a bottomless black void. _

_ "The only thing I could do..." she said. "The only way I knew to save both Chloe and Arcadia. I needed to make it so that we never met. So... I erased myself from the timeline." _

_ "You... what? How?!" _

_ "I found that I had no limit on my rewind," Alpha Max said. "So I stood on that cliff, and I rewound time back to the day that I was born... then further beyond that." _

_ "But that --" Your head was spinning. It felt as though a cacophonous noise was playing inside your skull. "That's impossible! That would create a time paradox!" _

_ "It did," said Alpha Max. "It also created you." _

_ The noise between your ears grew louder, and louder, until your thoughts and senses became overwhelmed with static. _

 

***

 

Max jolted awake, gasping, startling Chloe who was in the process of re-bandaging Max's injured arm. Chloe became instantly alert the minute Max awakened, leaning in towards her. "Max! Did you have a vision?"

Max nodded. "I know what's causing the supernatural disasters. But... you're not gonna like it..."

Chloe worried her lip with her teeth. "...I wanna know."

"The reason you've been having dream visions... and I've been having them too, it's because we're both connected. But it's not just me or you. It's both of us, being together, that caused the firestorm. And apparently it's happened to other versions of us, in other timelines."

"Seriously?!" Chloe said, dismayed. "What the fuck? Why is the universe literally out to get us?!"

Max shook her head. "I wish I knew... but... I have an idea." Her eyes locked with Chloe's. "I met another Max... the one whose memories we've been seeing. The Alpha Max. I think that the whole thing, all of this Strangeness, it started in her timeline. She created a time paradox, accidentally or intentionally, and that's the source of everything that's been going wrong since."

"A paradox? That's a real thing?!"

"Yep, and it sucks," Max said, unrolling the sleeping bag from her body and sitting up. "I'll explain later, but we should get moving now. I think I have an idea about how we can fix it, though. It's a long shot, but, well..." she cast a gaze around herself at all the burn victims in the tent, then looked out the open door flap at the darkened streets of the fire-ravaged city. "It's hard to imagine things getting more fucked up than they already are."

"That's true," Chloe said, giving Max a hand to help her to her feet. "So where are we going?"

Despite everything that had happened in the last 24 hours, a slight smile appeared on Max's face. She trailed the tips of her fingers over Chloe's inked forearm, the one that showed the scene of the lighthouse and the storm.

"We're going back to my studio," Max said. "It's time we finished your tattoo."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're approaching the endgame now. Just 3 or 4 chapters left to go.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who read, commented, and left kudos! Even if I don't reply, I read all of your comments, and it always makes my day. So, thank you :)


	12. Paradox

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max devises a plan to save the city from the time paradox. She and Chloe hitch a ride with some old friends back to the tattoo studio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the reason for the M rating, so keep that in mind when reading in public ;)

The area surrounding the medical tent had transformed into a makeshift disaster relief station. A truck had arrived with gallons of water and stacks of canned foods, and people were gathered around it. Somebody had built a fire in the middle of the street, providing a flickering light to the people who stood there, huddled under blankets and holding on to each other.

As Chloe and Max stepped out underneath the red sky again, they spotted Kate Marsh by the food truck, standing by a pot of soup and handing out bowls to people who had formed a queue. A small child stood by her side, one hand holding on to her skirt.

Max perked up when she saw her and approached her immediately. "Kate! You're okay!"

Kate's face lit up with a pure and brilliant smile. "Yes, I'm fine... I wasn't hurt that badly, and Alice is safe, as well, thanks to you," she said. The child -- whose clothes and face were smudged with soot -- stared at Max, not blinking. Kate noticed where she was looking and spoke to the girl in a quiet voice, "I want you to meet Max and Chloe, the ones who saved me from that burning building. They're my guardian angels."

"We weren't gonna just ignore you," Chloe said, a bit uncomfortable with being called an angel but unwilling to correct her. "As soon as we got your call, we left right away."

"Are you sure you shouldn't be resting right now?" Max asked in a concerned tone. "You've been through an awful lot today..."

"I appreciate the concern, but I'm fine now. After what you did, it felt wrong to just sit and do nothing when there's people here who need my help," Kate said. She glanced at the young girl that was at her side. "Plus, I've got to keep an eye on her until her mother gets back." She glanced sideways and leaned in to whisper, "She left last night, before the stars fell. Some of us went out to look a few hours ago, but..." she trailed off, not willing to talk about it in front of the girl.

"That's... really good of you, Kate," Max said. "It looks like these people are grateful for your help, too."

Kate ladled some soup into a bowl and handed it out towards Max and Chloe. "Here, take it," she said. "I'll be done with this in an hour. Why don't we all rest by the fire? You both look like you've had a difficult night."

"You have  _ no _ idea," Chloe said. "But I'm afraid we can't stick around very long to chit-chat. We got bidness elsewhere in the city."

Kate's eyes widened. "Oh no, is someone else in danger?"

"Sort of..." Max said, accepting the bowl of soup from Kate. She looked hungry. "It's kind of hard to explain, but... I think I know what's causing this," she said, glancing up at the red sky. "And I think I can fix it..."

"Well, if anyone can, it'll be you, Max," Kate said. "I don't know what it is you do, exactly, but... as far as I'm concerned, you can work miracles. So I believe in you."

"We'll do what we can," said Chloe. Honestly, they were in way over their heads, but they had been since long before fire rained down from the sky. She was itching to know more about Max's plan to stop the paradox, and how she was involved. But first, Max needed to eat. After using up all her available Rewind in order to get Kate safely down from the roof of that building, Chloe knew she would need to refuel.

"Thanks for the soup, Kate," Max said, her bowl suddenly empty. Chloe did a double take.

"Wow! You sure ate that quickly," Kate said, accepting the empty bowl from Max. Chloe marvelled at Kate's ability to take Max's weirdness in stride.

Max stepped closer to Chloe and slid her hand around her waist discreetly. A shiver ran all the way up her spine at Max's touch. She tilted her head up and whispered in Chloe's ear, "You should eat too, you know. You don't want to get hungry while I'm finishing your tattoo, do you?"

"I, uhh..." Chloe blushed a bit. She wanted to tell Kate she wasn't hungry; but the dull ache in the pit of her stomach said the opposite. She accepted a bowl from Kate while Max took a second portion. Then they brought their meals to the fireside, finding a corner to sit away from the crowd of people, and ate quickly and methodically. The soup was unremarkable - canned tomato soup and spaghettios - but it was warm and filling and instilled a sense of normalcy in a world where nothing felt normal anymore.

Chloe set down her utensils and empty bowl and stared into the heart of the fire, watching the dancing sparks curl upwards into the hazy red sky. With no sunlight, it was impossible to tell what time it was actually supposed to be. Chloe fished her phone out of her pocket to check the time. The clock read 6:15 PM, and she noted that her battery level was down to just 30% - which she was stuck with until she could find a charger or the power came back on.

She looked over at Max, who was staring into the fire as well. Chloe could only imagine what was going on inside her mind. A time paradox that was caused by one of her alternate selves? Chloe would think that was something straight out of a schlocky sci-fi movie, if she hadn't witnessed Max's time travel powers firsthand. Still, if Max believed she could solve it, and undo the destruction of Portland, then Chloe was resolved to give her everything she had.

"So, Max..." she began. "I trust you and all that, but... what's your plan, anyway?"

Max had a faraway look in her eye. She was staring into the heart of the fire, consumed by thought. Chloe nudged her with one elbow and she gave a start, then looked over and gave a half-smile.

"Sorry, Chloe... I was just thinking," she said. "The plan is... we've got to go back to my studio, so that I can get my inks and other supplies and finish your tattoo. Doing that will allow me to open up a Soul Window to the night of the storm, which was when Alpha Max caused the paradox. Then I just gotta... prevent her from causing it, somehow."

"Uh-huh," Chloe said, nodding. Her plan made about as much sense as anything else in this fucked-up city. "So what is a paradox, anyway? I don't know if you explained it before."

"Hmm," Max said. "One sec, okay?" She stood and approached the fire. She pulled a stick of charcoal out from its base and came back over to Chloe's side. "It's better if I have a visual here," she explained, and started to draw on the concrete.

"So, time is like a river, right? Its natural tendency is to travel from the past to the future, like water flowing downhill." Max used her stick to draw several parallel wavy lines symbolizing flowing water. "But when I use my power, it reverses the normal flow of time--" one of the lines curved away from the rest into a spiral. "Creating an eddy in that river. A time vortex... also known as a paradox," she explained. "Do you understand?"

"I-I guess so," Chloe said, nodding. "I'm with you so far."

"Ok, do you remember when I told you that nature can't stand a paradox? Yeah, so it'll do what it can to smooth these out." She pointed to the spiral. "If I only make a small alteration, using my Rewind, then it's not really an issue. The bigger the change, though, the greater the aftereffects. And when I use my Soul Window to change something further upstream, so to speak--" Max drew a second spiral at the head of the river. "If I'm not careful, it can have huge impacts on the direction of the time stream further down in the present. That's why I only make minor changes using my Soul Window. If I was careless, it could alter the whole timeline."

"So..." Chloe's head was spinning. These time travel explanations always made her feel small and helpless, but she had to stay on top of it all, for herself as well as Max. "What are these after-effects you're talking about, exactly?"

"The other Maxes and I think this is what causes the Strangeness," Max said. "When the timeline corrects itself, it releases a huge amount of energy from the temporal whiplash. That energy manifests in patterns of reverse-entropy. In other words... crop circles, strange animal behavior, weird and destructive weather..." she looked up at the red sky. "But it's never been anywhere close to this scale."

"What's different this time? Does it have to do with what the other Max did to her timeline?"

Max nodded. "Yeah. This scale of paradox... I've never seen anything like it before. What Alpha Max did... it  _ broke _ time."

"Do you know what she did?" Chloe asked.

Max nodded. "In my dream, she told me... she said she used her Rewind to erase herself from existence."

A chill went up Chloe's spine. "...That's fucked up," she said.

Max nodded. "An alteration of that scale... using her time travel in such a way..." she bent over to draw more on the diagram. Each line of the river curved inwards, all of it flowing into a massive and inescapable vortex. "It's like she created a black hole in time. One that was big enough to pull in other timelines... including ours."

"Jesus," Chloe swore. The maelstrom stared back at her like an evil eye. "Why would she do a thing like that?"

"She probably didn't know any better," Max said, a hint of sadness in her tone. "If I hadn't had my alternate selves to coach me when I first got my powers, I might've done the same thing. It sounds like she was exceptionally powerful, too. Besides," she cast a glance over at Chloe, "She was doing it to protect someone she loved."

"Who, me?!"

"Yeah," Max said. A small smile curled her lip. "Remember all the memories? Those are from her. She really cared about you, Chloe. She'd do anything to protect you."

"But... why?" Chloe stared into the flames. "I'm not special or anything. I'm not... smart, or talented, and I'm kind of a jerk, and you're..." hot tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. "...Brilliant, and amazing, and hella cute, and even if you weren't a fucking superhero, I'd still fall in love with you, even though I don't deserve it, because deep down I'm just a fuck-up with a dead dad who will never amount to anything--"

"Chloe," Max said. She stood up from where she was seated, her charcoal stick clattering to the floor, and knelt before Chloe, who refused to meet her eyes. Her impossibly soft hands reached out to cup Chloe's cheeks as she leaned in to press a kiss against her forehead, so gentle and soft it could barely be felt.

"You are worth so much more than that. You're... brave, and gorgeous, and when I'm around you, I feel like I can do anything. You brought me to that Vortex Club party, and... cooked us both breakfast, and kissed me under the stars. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have had the strength to save Kate, or the determination to fix all this so that we can have a future together. So, even if--" her voice sounded choked up. "Even if us being together is what caused this, I'll never regret it, and I'll do whatever it takes... not for everybody else's sake, but for yours. Because I'm selfish. And because I love you too, Chloe."

Chloe looked up then, meeting Max's eyes which shone in the light from the flickering fire. Her heart was pounding in her ears as she wrapped her arms around Max to pull her in and hold her as close as she could, skin to skin, feeling the electric fuzz of contact and listening to her shaky breath next to Chloe's ear. All she wanted to do was to hold Max close, to preserve this moment of contact forever. All of who she was now was wrapped up in her love for this girl.

Max turned her head and placed a kiss on the soft spot underneath Chloe's ear, triggering a small gasp from her. She trailed her lips over to Chloe's and placed another kiss on them, crookedly capturing just the corner, until Chloe reciprocated in kind. The energy between them grew hot, and a pool of anticipation grew in the pit of Chloe's stomach. At some point, their chaste kisses became not-so-chaste, and Chloe felt the hot sweet slide of Max's tongue on her teeth, felt it as the other woman exhaled sharply through her nose, could sense the growing warmth and desire for  _ more  _ that was overwhelming them both.

Then Chloe's phone gave an unexpected vibration in her pocket, signaling an incoming call. She sighed, and disengaged reluctantly. Confusion flashed across Max's eyes for a second, but then faded when Chloe held up her phone so that they both could look at the caller ID.

_ Victoria Chase is calling... _

"It's Victoria," Chloe said to Max, with a groan. "Should I... answer her?"

"You should," Max said, although she sounded a little disappointed too. "I want to know if she was able to escape the city. Or if she needs our help."

"Fair point," Chloe said, and swiped to pick up the call. She hit the button to put it on speakerphone. "What's up, Vic?"

"Are you still at the bar?" came Victoria's voice from the other end. She was talking fast and sounded a little bit desperate.

"No... Max and I left there hours ago and locked it up. Now we're at a dope-ass end-of-the-world rager out here. Everybody's getting turnt on canned beans and trash can fires." Chloe grinned over at Max, who was blushing a little in the firelight.

"Chloe, be serious. The world is fucking ending," Victoria said, her voice cracking as she spat her words into the receiver.

"I am serious. I just had the dankest bowl of spaghettios. Oh, and we saved our friend from a burning building, so like, no biggie or anything." Chloe walked one of her hands over to Max in order to twine their fingers together. "So... I'm guessing you didn't find a way out of the city? Did you at least find Nathan?"

"Yes, I found Nathan. We're together in his car," Victoria said. "But we can't leave the city. We got to the edge of where the stars fell, but we couldn't... it's hard to explain..."

"Try me," Chloe said. Max also leaned in with interest.

"Okay, so like, we weren't gonna take the freeway because that's just a clusterfuck of traffic. So we took side streets, and we made it to the edge, and it just --" Victoria took in a shaky breath. "There's a barrier there, and on the other side, it's... nothing. Literally just a big, black nothing. Nathan threw his phone across it, and then when I tried to call it, it was disconnected. We stuck a tree branch through it, and everything that crosses the barrier just... disappears."

"Holy shit," Chloe said. "That's fucked up."

"That's not the worst part," Victoria said. "Thing is... it's shrinking."

"Come again?"

"We parked the car by the edge of it, and by the time we figured out what was going on, it had nearly reached our muffler. It's moving slowly, I think it's like a bubble or a balloon or something. There's nothing--" her voice cracked. "Nothing we can do, and I-- fuck, I'm so freaked out, this isn't how I want to die, nobody is coming to help us, we're all gonna die--"

"Whoa, whoa, hey, chill," Chloe said. She could hear Victoria hyperventilating on the other end of the line. "What would you say if... if I told you I knew what was going on?"

"How the fuck could you possibly know that?!"

"Because..." Chloe cast a glance at Max, who nodded. "Because Max  _ does _ know what's happening. It has to do with both of us," she said.

"You're fucking with me. You're so self-centered that you think the  _ apocalypse _ is all about you!"

"No, seriously--  _ ugh _ ," Chloe groaned. "Just -- Max and I have a plan, okay? We think we've got a chance of stopping this shit, making it so all this never happened."

"That's ridiculous," said Victoria.

"Hey. How long ago was it that you were the one accusing Max of being involved? Well, okay, so you were right. Are you happy now?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "...Yes, a little."

"Okay, well, at least we have some sort of plan, and even if it doesn't work it's better than sitting here trapped, waiting for the bubble to collapse on all of us and erase us from existence," Chloe pointed out. "And, speaking of, do you still have your car?"

"Yes, dumbass, we're sitting in it," Victoria said.

"Okay, well, d'you think you could give Max and me a ride to the other side of town? We gotta get over there in order to do our thing and try to stop this."

"What am I, your chauffeur?"

Chloe sighed. "No, Vic... I was hoping you were my friend. Normally we'd take the Light Rail, but since the power's out that's obviously not an option... please. It's the best chance we got."

"It's Nathan's car, so let me ask him," Victoria said. Chloe heard some muffled conversation on the other end of the line. Finally, Victoria said, "What's your location?"

"We're not far from the bar," Chloe told her, and named an address.

"All right, we're coming to get you. Try not to fuck up anything more until we get there," Victoria said, and the line went dead.

Chloe caught Max's gaze and rolled her eyes. "Man. Even when she's being helpful, Victoria just  _ cannot _ turn off the bitch factor."

Max's expression had grown serious again. "While I agree with you, Victoria's right. Now isn't really the time to be messing around, not when so much is at stake," she said, although her eyes roamed Chloe's body in such a way that Chloe thought she wished they could do a little more messing around, too. "It's a good thing you got us a ride. The fact that the bubble is shrinking... that worries me. It's proof that our timeline is collapsing. We don't have much time left."

"That makes me wonder... what about the rest of the world? What happened to all those people?"  _ Like Joyce, and David, and Rachel, and all of Arcadia Bay... _

"I... don't know," Max said. "I don't think they're...  _ dead _ , exactly, but assuming what Victoria said is true, then... they might not exist anymore in this timeline. As far as we know."

Chloe's stomach dropped. "That's... I can't..." she stood up suddenly. "I can't sit around knowing that all this might be my fault. At least, not without trying to do something about it." She extended a hand to Max. "C'mon, Super Max. Let's go save the world, together."

Max took her hand and stood up. Her eyes met Chloe's. "Okay.  _ Together _ ."

 

+++

 

The black BMW wove through the labyrinthine streets of ruined Portland, bright headlights lancing through the red-tinged gloom. It pulled up to the curb and one of its doors opened as Victoria Chase stepped out onto the rubble-lined sidewalk. Her shawl hid most of her face from view, but a keen observer would note that she was trembling in her three-inch heels.

Victoria walked briskly down the sidewalk until she rounded a corner and came into view of a small cluster of people gathered around the edge of a fire. She scanned the crowd, noticing Max and Chloe, who were standing off to the side and having what appeared to be an intimate conversation. Letting out a huff of exasperation, she approached them, shoes clicking loudly on the concrete.

"I hope you realize how much trouble it was to get here," she said by way of greeting.

Chloe looked up. "Oh, hey, Vic. Where's the car?"

"About a block from here," she said, tossing her short hair in the direction she indicated. She glared at the two women. "Well? Are we going or what? I don't think I need to remind you that the world is literally ending right now."

"We know," Max said in her quiet voice. Victoria glared at her. This hipster bitch that Chloe was obsessed with... was she really the cause of everything that happened to their city? Even if she wasn't, Victoria decided, she didn't like Max. Other than her decent taste in music, the girl was unremarkable, with a regrettable fashion sense and a pretentious attitude about tattoos. Indie girls like her were a dime-a-dozen in Portland. What was Chloe even thinking?

Well, she wasn't one to judge other people's taste. (Except, she was. Loudly and to their faces. But now wasn't the time.) "Come on, then," she told them, and led them around the bend towards where the car was parked. Max cast one last look back at the makeshift settlement as they rounded the corner.

The BMW awaited them, engine purring softly. Behind the wheel, Nathan stared dead ahead, his face in its signature frown. Victoria approached the driver's side window and knocked on the glass to get his attention. Casting her a sideways glance, he reached over and unlocked the side doors. Victoria indicated that Chloe and Max should take the back seat, while she got in the passenger side. With a burst of acceleration and a squeal of rubber on concrete, the car jerked away from the curb and sped off into the darkness.

Victoria cleared her throat. "Where are we dropping you?"

"My tattoo parlor," Max said. "It's on the other side of downtown, in the southwest part of the city." She offered up an address. Nathan jerked the wheel and they swerved into a side street, the g-forces causing them all to sway in their seats.

Victoria turned so that she was facing the two women in the back seat. Chloe and Max sat side to side, with their fingers intertwined. They both looked haunted by something. Victoria felt a flash of pity -- they'd most likely been through some shit since she last saw them that morning. But also, Chloe had said they were partly responsible for this mess. Any sympathy Victoria was feeling dried up upon remembering that.

"Tell me. What the fuck. Is going on," she said, glaring at them both.

Chloe and Max exchanged a look. Max nodded. Chloe pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed.

"Fine. I'll tell you. But you're not gonna believe me," said Chloe.

"Don't fuck with me, Price," Victoria said. "What's up with the world right now?!"

"It's fucked up 'cause of a time paradox," she said. "It's like, a huge vortex that's sucking in all of reality itself." Max nodded.

Victoria rolled her eyes. "I don't know if you got hit by a falling brick or what, but now's not the time to play make-believe that you're in an episode of Star Trek," she said.

"See?" Chloe looked over at Max. "Told you she wouldn't believe us."

"It's true, though," Max said. "I should have seen the signs. There were omens leading up to it, like that earthquake at your concert, and the dying birds and double moon. Those were... aftershocks, of a sort. So were the falling stars. But this... nothingness you saw, that's the end for all of us. If we don't act fast, all of our reality will be erased."

Nathan's voice came from behind the wheel. "I'll have whatever she's smoking."

"I'm not high, I promise," Max said. "I just know all this because..." She took a deep breath. "Because I'm a time traveler."

Victoria looked at Chloe. "You'll believe anything this crazy chick says, won't you?"

Chloe set her jaw. "It's true! I don't care what you believe, but I know what Max is capable of. She has the power to rewind time -- I've seen her do it. And so that's why I think we have a chance to change this," she said. "That's why we're going to the tattoo studio. She's gonna try to travel back to before this whole mess started and prevent it from happening."

Victoria threw up her hands. "I knew it. You morons are just dragging us into your crazy little fantasy role play, meanwhile we're putting our lives on the line out here."

"Hey!" Chloe shouted. Her hand that wasn't holding Max's balled into a fist, her knuckles turning white. "You haven't got a fucking clue what you're talking about. Max just risked her life to save our friend Kate from a fire. Meanwhile, you two have just been cruising around the city, freaking out without a goddamn idea. So just... shut up, and be useful for once, Victoria."

Chloe's outburst would've tempered a lesser woman. But not Victoria. "Oh, sure thing, I'll be useful all right," she said, sarcasm dripping from every word. "But I'm not gonna play along with your dumb little game. If she's really -- a  _ time traveler _ ," Victoria said, spitting out the words like poison, "--Then she should prove it. You can travel in time? Then tell me what's going to happen in the next minute."

Max was silent for a moment. "...I can't," she said after a pause. "Not right now, anyway."

"Oh, that's convenient!" Victoria threw her hands up. "So you've got  _ magic time powers _ that work, except when you need to prove they exist."

"That's not it," Max protested. "My powers work fine. It's just... we're inside a moving car. My powers don't affect me, only the world around me. If I tried to Rewind now, I'd get thrown out the front of the car." Chloe looked over at her, shocked and afraid.

"Stop the car, Nathan," Victoria ordered. Nathan slammed on the brakes.

"We're wasting time..." he grumbled as the car puttered in the middle of the deserted street.

Victoria turned towards Max again. "All right, then. If you're really magic, like you say you are, then... prove it."

Chloe spoke out, irate. "Max doesn't have to prove anythi--"

In an instant, Max disappeared from the seat beside Chloe, leaving only empty space behind. At the same time, Victoria heard a tapping outside her window. She unrolled the glass, fuming, and saw Max there, nonchalantly leaning on the exterior of the BMW. She was holding Victoria's phone in her hand.

"Wow," Max said, looking at the screen. "You actually unlocked  _ all  _ the cats in  _ Neko Atsume _ ? Even the rare ones. I'm kinda impressed."

"G-give that back!" Victoria spluttered. "Where did-- how did you--" she glanced rapidly back and forth between Max and the empty seat beside Chloe.

Chloe gave a shrug, a smug look on her face. "I told you she had powers," she said.

Nathan raised an eyebrow at Victoria. "The cat game?  _ Really _ ?"

"Sh-shut up!" Victoria said. "And give me back my phone!" she snapped at Max, who chuckled and handed the phone back through the window. Then she disappeared and reappeared in the back seat, her hand sliding easily into Chloe's once again.

"O-kay," said Nathan, exasperation in his voice as he drummed his fingers on the wheel. "So the world is ending and this lesbo's got magic powers. Today is the best worst day of my life," he said, putting his foot down on the accelerator and revving the engine as the car rocketed forward.

Victoria turned back to face Max and Chloe, her eyes narrowed. She clutched her phone to her chest, as if daring Max to try to steal it again. She looked between Max and Chloe, her lips pursed, as if contemplating what to say. Finally, she spoke.

"Okay. So let's say I believed you..." she said, a sour expression on her face. "Because, given how all this crazy shit has gone down in the last 24 hours since we met, maybe I just hit my head and slipped into a fucking coma or something."

Max shook her head, sadly. "If only this were just a dream."

"Let's say,  _ hypothetically _ , that all this shit you're spouting is true, then..." she pointed at both of them. "If you're the ones who fucked it up in the first place, then how the hell are you gonna fix this mess?"

"Max has a plan," Chloe said. "Once we get to the tattoo place, Max will have everything she needs to... to open up a time portal."

"Ok, yeah, sure, because if Doctor Who taught us one thing, it's that the solution to time travel-related problems is  _ more time travel _ ."

"Nerd," whispered Nathan from the driver's seat. Victoria shushed him.

"There are no other solutions," Max said. "The event that caused this paradox happened in a separate timeline... to another version of Chloe and me. The only way to prevent it is to traverse from our timeline to theirs, which I wouldn't ordinarily be able to do, but..." She touched Chloe's tattoo. "Because it's you, I think I can."

"Why are you so special, anyway?" Victoria asked.

"I don't know," Max said quietly, shivering. Chloe shuffled closer to her and wrapped one of her arms around her shoulder, burying a nose in Max's hair. "I just... wanted to help people. I never asked for any of this."

"Shhh, it's okay," Chloe whispered close by her ear. "I'm with you. We're doing this together."

Victoria exhaled sharply through her nose and went back to staring out the side window. The scenery that flashed by was familiar, yet foreign. Storefronts and coffee shops lined the streets, their windows darkened and a creeping hollowness within. Hardly a soul was outside that she could see. There were a few other cars out, as well as some roads blocked by rubble and the wreckage of fallen stars, forcing Nathan to take a meandering route around the roads of Portland which had now become a labyrinth. Nathan was always a fast driver, but she worried they weren't going to make it in time. She reflexively bit at her nails, flecks of red varnish chipping away under her teeth.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of crawling through the ruins of once-familiar roads, the car pulled up alongside the tattoo parlor. It looked as dark and abandoned as the rest of the storefronts on the block. A fallen star had collided with the apartment block across the street, sending several bricks and pieces of rubble crashing through the glass front window of the parlor. Chloe looked it over with a sigh.

"It sucks seeing your studio like this, Max," she said. "Wonder if the other artists are okay..."

"Quit wasting time and get out of the car already," snapped Victoria.

"Geez, okay, calm your tits, Vic," Chloe said, pushing open the door and stepping out on the sidewalk.

"You better move fast. All of our lives are on the line," she said. In the driver's seat, Nathan was frowning deeply.

"Hey-- wait," he said as Max moved to exit the car. "If you change the timeline... what will happen to us now?"

Max's expression wavered, a shadow of uncertainty passing over her features. "Um... everything will go back to normal, and you won't remember any of this?"

"You don't sound convinced." Nathan's eyes flashed. "What if you just leave us all behind when you change timelines? If that happens, we're all doomed."

"I don't... I don't know," Max said, honestly. "I've never been on the other side of a time shift. I really don't know what happens to the timeline I leave behind..."

"Great, so now we're double-doomed," said Victoria. "Either we get erased by the nothing-bubble outside of town, or Max fucks up even more and erases us sooner."

"Or," Chloe interjected, "She fixes this mess, and we all wake up okay tomorrow morning. Like I said, we don't have a choice."

"I don't like this," said Nathan, crossing his arms and looking sullen. "We're already here, so there's no point in trying to stop you now. But this whole thing reeks."

"Yeah? No shit," Chloe replied. "That's why we're trying to fix it." She approached the door to the tattoo studio. "Thanks for the ride, Vortex Club."

"Yeah-- thanks, you guys," Max said, falling into step behind her. "I understand why you're skeptical. I wouldn't believe me, either. But thanks for giving us a chance. We'll make this right. I promise."

Victoria unrolled her window and leaned out. She looked between Chloe and Max. "I so wasn't planning to have to deal with the end of the fucking world today, or with shuttling two losers across town so they can play with fantasy make-believe time magic, but..." she took a deep breath. "If what you're saying is true, and you do manage to save the world and, then... I want some credit for helping you guys out."

"But you didn't do anythi--" Chloe interjected.

"--Of course, Victoria," said Max at the same time. "If... no,  _ when _ we wake up tomorrow and everything's back to normal, I'll make sure to tell you that you helped."

"You won't believe her, though," said Chloe, arms crossed.

Victoria considered this. "You're probably right, but I'll accept it," she said with a dismissive sniff and a flip of her short hair. 

"Right, well..." Chloe shuffled awkwardly in place. "...Bye, then, I guess."

Victoria rolled her window back up and gave a small wave as the engine revved, and she and Nathan sped off into the night, leaving Chloe and Max on the curb in front of the tattoo parlor.

As the black car streaked down the streets of Portland again, Victoria turned to Nathan. "What do you think? Do you trust those bitches to un-fuck everything?"

Nathan stared straight out at the road. He was silent for a long time. Finally, he spoke. "I think they knew more about what was going on, but... yeah, no, we're completely fucked."

"Wanna go back to the bar and get shit-faced on the most expensive bourbon while we wait for the world to end?"

Nathan gave Victoria a fist-bump. "Hell to the fuck yes."

 

***

 

The two women pushed open the door to the tattoo parlor, which was hanging off one of its hinges. The entry bell sounded its chime, the familiar sound echoing mournfully in the dark and empty room. Chloe looked sadly at the tattered shreds of indie zines and the pages of tattoo designs which had fallen from the wall and were scattered across the floor. The place was in total disarray compared to how it had looked the last time she'd been there, barely a day ago. It hurt, seeing the shop ruined like this.

Max had gone behind the front clerk's desk and opened a drawer to retrieve the key to her art studio. Chloe wondered where the man with the fish scale tattoos had gone, if he'd survived the firestorm. Regret washed over her. She didn't even know his name.

With a flourish, Max produced her key, which jingled at the end of its keychain. There was barely any light in the lobby, the dim red light from the sky outside barely piercing through the gloom. Max's face was almost entirely shadowed, making it impossible for Chloe to read her expression. She slipped into the darkness of the hallway, grabbing Chloe's wrist and pulling her along with her. Following the same motions that she must have done hundreds of times already, she found her studio door and unlocked it. She pulled Chloe in after her and closed the door behind them.

"Uh, Max..." Chloe said, uncertainly. "It's pitch black in here."

"Are you afraid?," came Max's voice, teasing in tone, from about three feet away. It was disorienting, not being able to locate her. Chloe's eyes strained to find anything in the utter blackness.

"I'm not, I swear! It's just... I can't see shit," Chloe said, then gave an undignified yelp as she felt a tickling sensation at the back of her neck. From behind her, she heard Max giggle.

"Har har, very funny, Caulfield," she said. "Now, really, how the hell are you gonna do this tattoo without light? Or any power for the tattoo gun?"

"Don't worry," said Max's voice. "I've got us covered."

A gentle white glow began to fill the room, banishing the darkness to its corners. The sudden appearance of light revealed the artworks on the walls: the Tree of Life, the blue jay, and the sketch of Chloe's tattoo: lighthouse, sea, and butterflies. The glow intensified, and as it did, all the colors which had drained from the world began to return: blues and yellows and deep greens, all of which had been lost underneath the red sky. Chloe looked on in wonder, soaking in the feelings that only Jane Doe's artwork could bring out. How could she have missed  _ green _ so badly?

Chloe glanced around the room, trying to find the source of the light, and when she looked at Max, she gasped. The light was coming from Max herself. The spiral tattoo on the back of her hand and the patterns underneath her shirt were giving off a radiant white glow. As Chloe watched, Max lifted her shirt up over her head and tossed it into a corner, causing the room to brighten even further.

At last, the full extent of her back tattoo was visible: etched down her spine and across her shoulder blades, in lines of brilliant white light, was an infinite fractal of spirals that appeared to shift around on her skin as Chloe watched. The pattern curved over her shoulders and around her sides and underneath the black strap of her bra. The details were so fine that no human hand could have inked them in. It suddenly became clear to Chloe why Max had hid her back tattoo from view: this close, there was no denying its otherworldly origin.

Max looked up, meeting Chloe's gaze. The light shone out from within her brilliantly blue eyes, her pupils glowing white. She was smiling, and a slight flush appeared on her cheeks.

"Daa-amn," Chloe said, giving a low whistle. "I knew you were hot, but this is... something else. Why didn't you warn me you could turn into a human lightbulb?"

Max's long eyelashes fluttered, catching the light from her eyes. She was clearly not used to showing this much skin, and had her arms wrapped around herself to preserve some of her modesty. "This is, umm," she said. "This usually only happens when I activate my Soul Window. I try to be discreet about it, because it's a little embarrassing when it goes off unexpectedly..."

"It goes off unexpectedly, you say? So, like, a glow boner?" Chloe waggled her eyebrows suggestively. Max blushed harder and shushed her.

"Sh-shut up... anyway, it's useful now," she said. It was true; the once pitch-black room had filled with light. "Now I can find my inks and tattoo gun." She crossed over to her desk and began searching for her tools.

Chloe unsubtly checked her body out. "That's a dope-ass tat you got back there," she said, eyes raking over the fractal spirals that shifted across Max's skin. "I'm guessing that's from the time travel, too?"

Max nodded, her back still turned towards Chloe. "That's right. It appeared when I made my first alteration using Soul Window. It grows every time I make a time jump through a portal."

"It's freakin' cool. You should really show it off more," Chloe said, reaching out a hand on impulse. She paused inches away from Max's skin. "...Can I touch it?"

Max hesitated, as if thrown by the directness of Chloe's request. "Y-yeah," she replied, blushing.

Chloe trailed her fingers across the skin of Max's back. The light was bright, but not blinding; she found that even close up, she could drink in all the details, the pale yet flushed skin underneath, the subtlety of shifting muscles as she moved. In the places where her fingers overlapped with the design, its light shone through Chloe's skin, too, lighting up her fingertips orange and red. The electric charge which passed into Chloe at the point of contact was far stronger than it had ever been before.

Chloe trailed her fingertips up towards Max's shoulder, delighting in making the girl shiver. A deep, animalistic part inside her wanted to see whether Max's glow tattoo extended  _ all _ the way down... but a little self-restraint held her back from pouncing on the other woman.

Having gathered her tattoo gun and inks, Max turned, and suddenly they found themselves face-to-face. Chloe had nearly a full head of height on her, and she smiled a cunning smile as Max looked up at her, their bodies fitting neatly together like puzzle pieces.

Her voice a low purr, Chloe said, "Have I said before how hot and amazing you are?"

Max looked down and away but she couldn't keep herself from smiling. "...You might've said something like that."

"Well, it's true." Chloe leaned in closer, voice now almost a whisper. "And it's taking pretty much all my willpower right now to not rip off the rest of your clothes and make sweet, world-ending love to you right here, on this tattoo chair."

Max's blush was literally glowing a bit now, too. "A-as tempting as that is, Chloe," she said, and gracefully maneuvered her way out from Chloe's circle and over to the table by the chair. "I think we had better focus on... the task at hand..."

Chloe repositioned herself between Max and the tattoo chair. "Max..." she said, her voice raspy with desire, "I believe in you... but... we both know there's a chance this might not work," she said. "So, Max, before we go past the point of no return... I want..." her gaze flickered down to Max's body. The heat she felt in her face was burning her up from the inside.

With a click, Max set the tattoo gun down on the metal table. She took a step into Chloe's personal bubble, and reached out an arm to gently push Chloe backwards. The backs of her knees hit the tattoo chair and she sank into it, paralyzed underneath Max's heated, glowing stare. A rush of energy suffused Chloe's body from her face to the tips of her toes as Max's knees straddled hers. She reached out a hand to brush Chloe's hair out of her eyes.

"You have a point," Max whispered. "It's kinda... difficult to concentrate, having you like this." She was trembling, her eyes flicking from Chloe's body to her lips and back again. "It's hard... not to take advantage..." Every point of skin-to-skin contact was burning with heat and electric energy.

In an instant, Max's body surged forward, straddling Chloe in the chair and placing her hands on either side of Chloe's shoulders. Chloe looked up, dazzled momentarily, then as Max leaned in she did too, their lips meeting in a moment of searing passion. She gasped, opening her mouth to admit Max, who hummed as her body folded into Chloe's.

Chloe's hands roamed over Max's body, sliding over her shoulders and down her sides. With a gasp, Max broke the kiss, lips shining, and tugged at the lapels of Chloe's jacket. Chloe leaned forward, finding it challenging to remove her clothes while Max's weight was pinning her to the tattoo chair, but soon enough she'd shucked the jacket as well as the shirt underneath it, flinging them both into a corner of the room. After a momentary pause, she shed her sports bra, too. Max's glowing eyes scanned across Chloe's bare expanse of skin, decorated with a few nicks and scars from nasty falls she'd taken on her skateboard, but otherwise pale and pristine.

Max placed a kiss to Chloe's clavicle. "Your skin is so beautiful," she breathed. "I wish I could cover every inch of it..." She traced her finger down the center of Chloe's chest, stopping just above her bellybutton.

Chloe laughed, the vibrations shaking them both. "That's the sort of thing only an artist or a serial killer would say, you know." 

Max walked her fingers back up Chloe's chest to her shoulder and smiled down at her. "Good thing I'm the former... as far as you know, anyway." She grinned and tweaked one of Chloe's nipples, causing her to gasp and shiver.

"Okay, that's it, it is  _ so  _ not fair that you still have your bra on," Chloe said, reaching around Max's back to undo the clasp. After some fiddling, the hooks came undone and Max shrugged it off and onto the floor. Chloe reached up, cupping Max's small breasts in her hands. "Cute," she said. "Mine are bigger though."

Max gave an impatient huff. "That's because you didn't stop growing when you were sixteen," she said.

"Ohh, shit, you're right," Chloe said. She looked away. "Dammit, does this make me a pedo?"

"Well..." Max leaned in close. "I'm actually 23, so... no, it doesn't," she said. "Besides... I'm fairly sure the other Max and Chloe were in love since they were, like, 13..."

Chloe felt a warm shiver -- maybe because of her lack of clothes, maybe because of Max's suggestion that their other selves had been in love, too. "What makes you say that?"

"It's hard to describe... it's just the feeling I got when I saw the world through Alpha Max's eyes. When she looked at you, Chloe, it was like... the rest of the world didn't matter. As long as it was you, and her, it didn't matter how, and it didn't matter where..."

Chloe leaned forward to kiss Max on the lips, softly, sweetly. The artist's eyelids fluttered, her lashes glowing in the light which shone from her eyes.

"Looks like I found you again," Chloe said, her eyes meeting Max's shining ones. Then her gaze dropped down lower, over Max's breasts and down to where her hip bones displayed an elegant curve which disappeared beneath the belt of her skinny jeans. Chloe rested one hand on Max's hip and looked up at her.

"I wonder if our other selves ever did...  _ this, _ " she said, grinding up into Max's hips. The other girl let out a highly indecent moan as she did, and leaned into Chloe, who gripped her more tightly and repeated the motion. The layers of fabric between them suddenly felt too heavy and restricting. Chloe slid one of her hands down lower, her fingers toying with the hem of Max's jeans. "Is this ok?"

Max drew in a shuddering breath, and nodded. Her blush glowed hot pink across her freckled cheeks and pale shoulders.

Chloe smiled, running her fingers across the bumps of Max's hip bones. "I wanna hear you say it. Out loud."

"Please, Chloe... I want..." Max whimpered and rocked forward, grinding their hips together again. "I wanna feel you..."

"Works for me," Chloe said, smiling, and slid her fingers underneath Max's waistband. The artist's breath hitched as Chloe crooked her fingers  _ just so _ , and her breathing started to come faster and faster, in more and more ragged gasps.

"A-aaah, Chloe... fuck..." she moaned. Chloe thought Max swearing was impossibly hot, so she tried to get her to make that noise again. The normally quiet girl was extremely responsive -- not to mention  _ loud _ , which came as a pleasant surprise. The shining lights across Max's back cast dancing shadows around the room as the two rocked together.

After a particularly deft maneuver of Chloe's fingers, Max cried out, and the light lines across her body flickered and strobed as she shuddered in Chloe's lap. Chloe felt her release and knew that she was close to her peak as well. With a few more strokes, she pushed herself over the edge, releasing all the tension held inside her as warm waves of pleasure spread throughout her body, shaking her to her core.

Her energy spent, Max leaned forward against Chloe's chest, her hair spilling out in a messy spread across Chloe's skin. Their ragged breaths slowed down until the two were breathing in sync, the intense heat gradually dissipating and a gentle warmth filling in its place. Max laid her hand with the spiral tattoo across Chloe's bare chest, just above where her heart was still beating at twice the normal speed. They stayed together in a warm, comfortable silence for a long moment, and Chloe allowed herself to pretend they were okay, that everything was gonna be okay.

After their breathing slowed to regular levels again, Chloe spoke. "Hey," she said.

Max looked up, meeting Chloe's gaze with glowing eyes. "Hey yourself."

Chloe smiled. "Not too shabby, right?"

"Mmm," Max gave a nonverbal reply. Her fingertip traced spiralling patterns on Chloe's skin. "...Yeah."

Chloe found herself laughing, deep and low, in such a way that it reverberated through both their bodies. "...Man. Victoria and Nathan would  _ murder _ us if they found out we were doing this instead of finishing the tattoo."

"To be fair, that was our original plan," Max said. "Guess we got a little sidetracked, though..."

"It's 'cause of your stupid sexy glow tattoo," Chloe muttered. "Also, I think you might have a fetish for doin' it in this chair?"

"Shh-hhhh," Max shushed her with a finger across her lips. "That's got nothing to do with it. Probably..."

"Uh-uh. You can't fool me, Magic Max," Chloe teased. "Do you think about it with all your clients, or only the hot ones?"

Max gave a breathy laugh and flicked Chloe's nipple playfully. "Just you, silly. It's only ever been you," she said.

"Wait a sec," Chloe said, "If I heard that right, are you telling me that was your first time? Sheesh. Coulda fooled me..."

"Sort of... it's a little complicated," Max said. "In art school, I... tried both guys and girls, but... I always turned back time afterwards. So I dunno if that counts or not."

Chloe looked at her. "Don't you  _ dare _ rewind this, Max Caulfield."

"I promise, I won't," Max said, smiling. She pushed herself up into a seated position again. "I'm... glad we did this, Chloe."

"Why are you talking about it in the past tense already? Once we save the world, we can do it again... and again, and again, as much as we want," Chloe said. "I've got a few other tricks that I wanna show you..."

"Whoa, slow down there, tiger," Max said, laughing. Then her expression turned more serious. "All jokes aside, I really do need to finish your tattoo. We haven't got much time left... and I mean that literally." She looked down at herself. "I guess I need to re-sterilize everything, first."

Chloe nodded. "Also, my legs are kinda falling asleep underneath you right now..."

"Oh! Sorry," Max said, climbing out of Chloe's lap. The departure of her warmth immediately triggered in Chloe a longing for more contact. Max bent to collect her bra from where it had fallen to the floor. Her back tattoo gave off a steady glow, albeit not quite as bright as before. Chloe drank in the sight of her as she went about the room, double-checking her equipment and wiping it clean. 

Without the warmth of arousal and Max in her lap, the air in the room felt chilly against Chloe's bare skin. She hopped off the tattoo chair again to stretch out her muscles and pick up her clothes which were strewn across the floor. She pulled her sports bra back on, then grabbed her t-shirt and gave it an experimental sniff. Grimacing, she put it on anyway. It wasn't like she had any other choice.

Chloe sat back down in the chair again as Max approached her side. Using a disinfectant wipe, she cleaned Chloe's tattoo, like she'd done several times before. Like it was an ordinary tattoo, on an ordinary day. But there was nothing ordinary about this. Chloe shivered as the cool liquid evaporated off her skin.

At last, Max picked up the tattoo gun. The ink palette she had laid out included shades of teal and green and white, as well as a brilliant blue that same to glow with the same light as Max's blue eyes. It was the blue of the butterfly's wings, the same shade that had once stained Chloe's hair. The blue that would reshape their destiny.

Chloe examined the tattoo gun curiously. "Uh, Max, it looks like you forgot to plug that in... how're you gonna do it without power?"

Max shrugged. In her hand, the gun whirred to life. "I never needed it to begin with," she said. "Ever since I saw the tattoo gun in my dream... it's been a part of who I am. The cord was just for appearances, anyway." The whine of the gun stopped. Max dipped the tip of the pen in the radiant blue and placed it against Chloe's arm. "Are you ready?"

Chloe gave a shaky exhale. "I'm ready," she said. "Let's do this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly didn't plan to put any sex scenes in this story, but Max and Chloe had other ideas.
> 
> We're almost at the end now. Just 2 chapters to go: the finale, and then the epilogue.  
> Apologies for making this chapter almost 3 weeks later than planned. I try to keep a buffer of 1 chapter written at all times, so I waited until finishing Ch.13 before posting this, and it ended up being more than twice as long as the next longest chapter. _Time travel_ , am I right?
> 
> If any of my readers would like to preview Ch.13 before it's published and give some feedback, let me know. I want to make sure it's pitch-perfect!
> 
> Thanks for reading and commenting! You all are the best! :)


	13. Alpha / Beta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the paradox closing in around them, Max uses Chloe's tattoo to escape into the past, journeying through memories in order to save their reality from oblivion.

[ _I've got you_ ](https://youtu.be/vC7n6SREFew) _under my skin_  
_I've got you deep in the heart of me_  
_So deep in my heart that you're really a part of me_ _  
Yes, I've got you under my skin_

 

***

 

The sound of the tattoo gun and Chloe's own heartbeat were the only things audible in the darkened room.

Max, frowning in concentration, was in a state of total focus as she dipped the tattoo gun in the teal ink and then applied the color to Chloe's upper arm. Colors bloomed across the crashing waves: blue-greens and deep blues and purples, the teal hues of the rain-soaked grass, and the towering spire of the lighthouse illuminated in yellows and whites as it shone out against the storm.

Chloe had to remind herself to breathe. Max's shining eyes and the white lines of light across her back had reduced in luminescence, creating a limited circle of light that included only the two of them. It was as if they were the only people left in the world. Given that they were in a timeline that was due to collapse any minute now, Chloe thought, it was entirely possible that they _were_ the only ones remaining, as the sphere of nothingness encroached on Portland from all sides.

She wondered about Kate, about Victoria and Nathan, and about Rachel. All of her friends, and all the places she knew were gone: all that remained was the tattoo studio, herself, and Max.

She'd been willing to give _anything_ for a Jane Doe tattoo, and she ended up giving _everything_.

Chloe's eyes searched Max's face. Her delicate pink tongue was unconsciously sticking out as she focused on the tattoo. What could she be thinking? Chloe recalled just minutes before, how Max had trembled in her lap and shouted Chloe's name, and she felt her face heat up. Maybe they shouldn't have done that, if it had cost them the precious few minutes they had left before their timeline erased itself. But she didn't feel any regrets. It felt like they'd made one final commitment to each other in the face of oblivion.

As she looked at her, the complex emotions and doubts she was feeling evaporated into thin air, leaving behind something pure and uncomplicated. _Love_. Even among all the chaos and destruction that their time-sick world had brought unto them, Chloe trusted Max with everything she had.

Max shifted her position by Chloe's side, lifting the tattoo needle off her skin for a moment. Chloe watched in fascination as she cleaned the tip with a cloth, removing all traces of color, and then re-dipped it into ink. This time, she selected the bright, vivid blue that seemed to glow from within. It was the same color as Max's eyes.

Chloe gave a sharp inhale as the needle touched down on her skin again. The brilliant blue color bloomed across the wings of the butterflies, crackling like lightning through the clouds of the maelstrom. Electric waves of energy seemed to flow outward from Max into Chloe, with the tattoo gun serving as a conduit. The sensations coursed throughout her body, and she grit her teeth and clench her fingers on the arm of the tattoo chair. It was like being pecked at by hundreds of tiny birds with sharp beaks. Her blood ran searing hot in her veins. Unable to contain herself, she gasped at the pain.

Max's concentration slipped as she heard her reaction. Immediately her spare hand flew to Chloe's forehead. "Chloe," she said, concern written across her features.

"I'm fine," Chloe said through grit teeth. Hot tears ran down her cheeks. "...I'll survive. You gotta finish this, Max."

Although it was clear that Chloe's pain was upsetting her, Max nodded. As the needle touched down on her skin once more, Chloe's entire body stiffened, and she recalled her dreamlike memories from the night of the storm that took place so many years ago.

_Lightning flashes. Howling wind and rain soaking her skin. Her own voice, calling out into the storm until she was hoarse. The black shape of a falling tree heading straight for her. The vision of butterflies. The doe. The lighthouse. A woman's voice telling her to wake up._

_Max's voice._

"Chloe," came Max's voice from by her side, pulling her out of the reverie. Max had lifted the tattoo gun off Chloe's skin, but the hum of electric energy still remained, coursing through her bloodstream. "...It's done." She held up a hand mirror so Chloe could see.

At last, the tattoo was complete. The glittering wings of blue butterflies reflected the glowing beam of light cast out by the lighthouse. Every detail stood out, as hyper-realistic as a photograph, as though it was not an illustration but rather a window directly into her memories. The freshly-applied ink shimmered across her skin. Looking upon it, the symbol of love and strife that had guided her through these past few weeks -- and even longer, as she reflected on how she used to look out on the lighthouse in Arcadia Bay -- she felt a bright joy as well as a deep and unfathomable sadness.

Max's work was done. That meant--

"It's time," Max said. "I'm going to open your Soul Window now."

Chloe's heart caught in her throat. "Max, what's gonna--" she swallowed. "After you make the time leap. What's gonna happen to me?"

Max walked around the chair so that they were facing each other. The glow in her eyes was nearly all faded, and the lights on her back were starting to flicker and fizzle out, along with almost all the light in the room. Chloe became suddenly certain that once Max ran out of light, they were at the end of all their time.

"I'll find you," Max said. "We might get separated, but -- no matter what happens, in whatever timeline we end up -- I'll always find you again."

Chloe leaned forward. Her eyes met Max's glowing ones. Their faces were mere inches apart. "Promise?"

Rather than answer her with words, Max closed the gap between them with a kiss. The sweet softness of her lips mingled with the salty tears that had left cooling streaks across Chloe's face. Chloe closed her eyes and let the sensations fill her entire world. If these were to be her final moments, then she wouldn't want to spend them doing anything else.

In the distance, she thought she heard the sound of waves crashing against the shore.

The lights on Max's back faded until only darkness remained.

 

***

 

_I tried so not to give in_  
_I said to myself, this affair never will go so well_  
_But why should I try to resist, when baby I know so well_ _  
I've got you under my skin_

 

@@@

 

As the final stroke of bright blue bloomed across Chloe's skin, you felt it: the familiar, irresistible magnetism of the Soul Window, pulling you towards another place in another time.

You withdrew your pen from Chloe's skin. "It's time," you said. Chloe looked up at you. Her eyes were shining with fear and also determination. "I'm going to open your Soul Window now."

Chloe looked nervous. "Max, what's gonna--" a worried look crossed her face. "After you make the time leap. What's gonna happen to me?"

Instead of replying right away, you walked around the tattoo chair until you were face-to-face with Chloe. Her question was one that had been eating at you since the beginning: what happens to the people in the timelines you left behind? Certainly all of her memories would be erased. Everyone in this post-apocalyptic city would cease to exist. But somewhere, out there, there was a new version of this city waiting for the both of you. And in that city, Chloe would be alive and unharmed.

"I'll find you," you said. "We might get separated, but -- no matter what happens, in whatever timeline we end up -- I'll always find you again."

Chloe leaned in towards you. You could see the lights of your eyes reflected in hers. She looked up at you, trusting that you'd do the right thing. "Promise?"

You needed to prove it to her, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you would do everything in your power to set things right. Words would not be enough. Here in this final moment between the two of you in this ruined city, you closed the gap between the two of you and kissed her softly, gently but with feeling, trying to communicate all that she meant to you without saying a word: Everything you felt for her, and all the weight of your obscured history.

You felt the magnetic pull from her tattoo on your whole person, too strong to ignore.

The lights in your eyes faded to black as you allowed yourself to be pulled backwards in time.

 

@@@ ɑ @@@

 

Performing a time leap felt like falling, except in all directions at once. Your head spun with vertigo as colors streaked around you, dissolving your physical form in present-day Portland and transporting you through a hyper-dimensional portal filled with multicolored lights. Days and nights stood side-by-side as you traversed across time and space, through the wormhole you'd opened using the tattoo on Chloe's arm.

The first few times you'd done this, you'd nearly lost your composure and scattered yourself across multiple dimensions. Now that you'd done this over a dozen times, you were able to leap with practiced expertise. You headed towards your goal with a single-minded determination.

You held the image in your mind: Arcadia Bay, on the cliff beside the lighthouse, on the night of the storm. You needed to get there and confront Alpha Max, before she rewound herself out of existence. If you could do that, then you would hopefully create a new timeline, one where you could find Chloe and live your lives un-menaced by the Strangeness.

As you fell through time, you noticed a presence alongside you. You had just a few moments to think _that's not normal_ before you felt an unseen force intercept your time leap. Suddenly, everything tilted sideways; where before you were moving steadily backwards in time, something or someone was pulling you in another direction, forcing you on a different trajectory. Panic rose up in you as you tried to re-assert your dominance over the time stream and focus on your objective, but before you could do it, you slipped out of the portal. Out-of-control, you felt yourself crash into an unknown reality.

You felt the presence of something solid at your back as you re-entered the time stream. Dizziness overwhelmed you for a moment as your head was still spinning from the time leap. As you re-acclimated your senses and opened your eyes to see where you landed, your stomach turned with a feeling of dismay.

This wasn't the lighthouse and the storm. Instead, you'd ended up in some kind of... classroom?

_What the hell_ , you thought, looking around yourself. Daylight flooded the room through wide windows. At the front of the classroom, a bearded man -- presumably the teacher -- was giving a lecture, to the varying fascination and boredom of the students surrounding him.

"Alfred Hitchcock famously called film, 'little pieces of time', but he could be talking about photography, as he likely was," the teacher was saying. He started elaborating on kinds of techniques and approaches towards photography in the modern day. You quickly deduced that this must be a photography class. But whose class was it? Why had you ended up here, instead of at the lighthouse?

In front of you lay a notebook, a collection of pens and pencils, and an instant camera, along with a few printed-out polaroids. _Weird_ , you thought, looking at the one in the center of your field of vision. After a moment, you realized it was a photograph of yourself, your back turned towards the camera. _Kinda cool... a little self-indulgent, though_.

After a moment, you realized the significance of the photograph. _This is another Max_ , you thought. _Have I accidentally replaced her? How did I get here?_

As you scanned the classroom, a few salient details stood out to you. To your surprise, some of the faces of your classmates were familiar. Seated to your right was Kate Marsh, wearing her hair in her signature bun, looking forlorn. Someone tossed a wad of paper at her head, causing her to flinch. Seeing the troubled expression on her face, it called to mind how she'd been when you first met her in your own timeline, before you'd given her a tattoo. Maybe something similar had happened to her in this reality? Seeing her like that filled you with sadness. Someone as good and kind as Kate didn't deserve to be treated like that.

Over on your left, a girl raised her hand to give a pointed answer to the teacher's question, and to your surprise you recognized Victoria Chase. She was just as pompous and egoistic in this reality as she was in yours, albeit perhaps even more thirsty for validation, given the way she seemed to be eagerly vying for the teacher's attention.

This classroom reminded you almost exactly of your time in art school: from the small, seminar-style lectures, to your notebook that was filled with drawings in the margins. Although based on the materials on your desk, _this_ Max's talents lay in photography, not illustration.

Finally, seated in the desk immediately in front of you was an unknown person wearing a black hoodie. Something about her looked familiar, but you couldn't quite figure out what it was. As though she could sense you looking at her, the woman in front turned to face you, and you felt your heart stutter in your chest.

It was like looking into a mirror. Alpha Max looked over her shoulder at you, a small, sad smile on her face. She looked just like you, save for the fact that her clothes and hair were soaking wet, as though she had just stepped out of a rainstorm despite the bright, sunny weather outside.

"Hey, Max," she said. "Welcome to Arcadia Bay."

You cast a quick glance around the room. Nobody else seemed to have noticed that there were two of you. Your voice a near-whisper, you hissed, "What is this place? How did I end up here? Where's the lighthouse?"

"This is my photo class at Blackwell Academy. I intercepted your time jump, and brought you here instead," she said. "I know what you're trying to do, but you should know it's not going to work. Until you can see the full picture, you'll never have a chance of stopping the paradox."

You shook your head. "You're not making any sense..."

Alpha Max pushed her chair out from her desk and stood up. The lecture continued without interruption, as though the two of you were invisible. "It will all make sense to you eventually. Come on," she said, extending a hand to you. "There's a lot you have to see."

You wanted to protest, but Alpha Max seemed more in control of the surreal situation than you were, so you stood up and took her hand. She guided you towards the door. As she led you out of the classroom, the scenery blurred and shifted around the two of you, as the two of you leapt backwards in time, years and years into the past.

"Try to keep up," Alpha Max said to you over her shoulder, a teasing hint to her voice. The scenery around you stretched like it was made of taffy, until suddenly she was walking you down a different corridor in what looked like another school. The anti-drug posters on the walls were replaced with cheerful craft paper cutouts. This place looked more like an elementary school.

Alpha Max led you around a corner to where a cluster of children were gathered: two boys and two girls. They looked to be second or third graders. One of the girls, the blonde, was missing one of her front teeth. She stood between the two boys and the other girl, who was sitting on the floor as though she'd been pushed over. Her backpack was open and its contents were scattered across the linoleum.

One of the boys was holding a small object, which you realized was a cheap instant camera. He held it over his head, out of the blonde girl's reach.

"Hey, give that back!" the blonde girl was saying. "Just 'cuz she's new to our class doesn't mean you get to pick on her an' mess with her stuff."

"She ran into us," said one of the bullies.

"Yeah, and she was using that to take a picture of me. She's a weirdo," said the other boy.

"Don't lie! I saw you push her down and take it from her. Nobody messes with my friend and gets away with it!" She stomped her foot down angrily. It wasn't very intimidating on its own, but you admired her spirit.

"Whatever, loser," the boy said, tossing the camera to the blonde girl. "I don't care any more." He turned and began walking away.

"You haven't got friends, anyway," said the other one.

" _You're_ the losers," the blonde girl said as the two boys left down the hallway, sticking out her tongue at their retreating backs. She then turned towards the smaller girl, who wore her mousy brown hair in a ponytail. "Ignore those jerks," she said, offering her a hand to help her up.

The girl looked up, and you felt a lurch of recognition -- you were looking a younger version of yourself, crippling shyness and all.

"Um..." the younger Max said, gathering her school supplies that had scattered on the floor and placing them inside her backpack. She took the other girl's hand and stood up. "Thanks for getting my camera..."

"No problem. Those guys are total ass-clowns, anyway." She smiled a gap-toothed smile. "I'm Chloe, by the way."

"Um... I'm M-Maxine..." she stuttered.

"That's a cool name," she said. She handed Max the plastic camera. "Here. What were you taking a picture of?"

"I-- it's my first week, so... I wanted to have some pictures to remember people's names and faces."

"That's a good idea!" Chloe said enthusiastically. "Hey, why don't you take a picture of us? It'll be like, the moment we formed our super awesome team! Oh, we should have nicknames though, 'cuz all good teams have codenames. Like secret agents, or pirates! How 'bout I call you... Max?"

"That sounds... good," the young Max said. "What's your nickname?"

"You can call me Captain Chloe!"

"That's not shorter than your real name though..." young Max pointed out.

"It doesn't gotta be! You can be my first mate, Max," she said. She stepped alongside Max and elbowed her. "Okay, take the photo of us now!"

Max held up the camera with the lens pointed back towards them, and the flash illuminated the hallway for a split-second. Seconds later, the camera whirred as it dispensed the polaroid. Chloe leaned over Max's shoulder, watching with fascination as the photograph developed right before her eyes.

"Coooooool," Chloe said. "Hey, I'm hungry now, d'you wanna sneak into the cafeteria to try an' plunder some pirate's booty, First Mate Max?"

Younger Max nodded, tucking her camera and the photograph into her pack. She followed Chloe down the hall, the sequins on her backpack glittering in the afternoon light.

You watched the children disappear around the corner, then turned towards Alpha Max. "What was the point of showing me this?"

"That was the day we met her," she explained. Then she looked at you. "...Let me ask you something: How long have you gone by Max, instead of Maxine?"

"That's--" you started to answer, but your words caught in your throat. How long, exactly? It must have started when you were around the age of those kids. But you couldn't pinpoint it exactly. "I don't really remember."

Alpha Max nodded. "I thought so. There's a _lot_ you don't remember, actually," she said.

"Why don't you just tell me, then?" You said, glaring at her.

She gave one of her cryptic smiles. "It's better you figure things out for yourself." She beckoned you closer and her smile fell. "Come with me. There's more you have to see..."

She reached out and grabbed your wrist, and reality twisted around the two of you again.

 

*** β ***

 

_Somewhere else..._

 

The hall of mirrors stretched from horizon to horizon in every direction, composed of triangular shards of glass that reflected each other into infinity. There was no way to tell which way was up, where you had come from or where you were going. The existence of this place violated every law of physics on the books.

It was in this impossible labyrinth that Chloe found herself wandering aimlessly, with no recollection of how she had arrived there.

"Max?!" She called out. Her voice echoed hollowly throughout the extraplanar space. "Where did you go? Can you hear me?" Her sneakers squeaked on the glassy surface underneath. The tattoo on her arm glistened, its ink still fresh, and she felt twinges of electric energy emanating from it and pulsing through her bloodstream.

The last thing she remembered was kissing Max, before being plunged into complete darkness...

She continued to wander through the space. "What the _fuck_ ," she said emphatically to no one in particular. Was she dreaming? Or was this the end of the world? _God_ , that would suck if this was the afterlife. One big confusing clusterfuck of loneliness. _Just like most of my life,_ she thought ruefully. Max wasn't here, nor was anybody else that she could see.

The triangular mirrors hung weightlessly all around her. When one appeared to be within arm's reach, and she extended her hand to touch it, her fingers passed through thin air. This weird place was messing with her depth perception. "Yeah, ha ha, very funny, let's fuck with Chloe's head, that'll be real fuckin' hilarious," she said, her voice echoing through the emptiness. Wherever this place was, it wasn't Portland. It was too surreal to be on Earth. But she was too present in her body and her thoughts to be dreaming. She could feel the pricking pain of the fresh tattoo on her skin. And she was breathing air, or what passed for air in this place.

Maybe this was a lucid dream? Max used to talk about lucid dreams a lot. Whatever it was, Chloe didn't think she'd be able to pinch herself awake. She wasn't sure what she'd wake up to, anyway.

_Wonder if there's a way out somewhere in here,_ she thought as she continued walking. For some time, the only sound was her footsteps echoing through emptiness. Then, off in the distance, she heard what sounded like muffled voices.

Chloe's heartbeat quickened, and she broke into a run, sprinting towards the source of the sound. As she approached, she pulled up short. A massive, triangular mirror hung in the air before her. On its glassy surface, an image was drawn in bold black pen of a crow with its wings spread wide.

_That looks like... one of my own tags,_ Chloe thought as she looked at it more closely. She could hear indistinct voices and see the blurred shapes of people coming from the other side of the mirror. Curiously, she reached out an arm towards its surface. As her fingertips brushed against it, it rippled like water, and her hand passed right through up to her elbow.

_Huh_. Maybe this was a way out? It wasn't as though she had any other leads. Taking a deep breath, Chloe stepped forward and put her head inside the mirror. Instantly, gravity shifted on its axis, and she found herself falling through the other side.

She landed on her ass with a heavy thump. Swearing, she picked herself up and looked around.

To her surprise, the place she'd ended up in was familiar; disconcertingly so. She was standing in her own backyard, at her childhood home in Arcadia Bay. It was near sunset; a flock of birds passed across the orange-tinged sky, flying south for the winter. The air was filled with the sounds of gentle conversation and the smell of smoke from her dad's old charcoal grill. The swing set -- no longer there in the present day -- stood there gleaming as though it were brand new. Both of its swings were occupied by children, swinging back and forth under the clouds without a care in the world.

Chloe looked at the girl closest to her, and experienced a bizarre, out-of-body sensation. She was looking at a younger version of herself. Eight-year-old Chloe kicked out her feet, trying to spur the swing to go as high as it possibly could. Then she looked over at the person in the swing seat next to her. At first, all she could see was a blur of shapes; then, as though she was watching a video buffering, the shapes resolved themselves into the a second young girl, her plain brown hair pulled into a ponytail.

Chloe stared at this girl, who was unknown to her. But there was something familiar about her features, her expression, her giggling laugh as Kid Chloe nearly inverted herself on the swingset. Something about that laugh... those eyes...

Suddenly, it clicked. That girl... was _Max_ . As soon as she realized this, she recalled that she'd been here before, in a dream. This felt like her own memory. Only... why was Max there? She'd only met Max this year. She'd have remembered if she knew her since they were both kids. _Right_?

Chloe contemplated this as she wandered across the freshly-mown lawn and approached the house. As she did, she got a closer look at the other people in the yard, who were laughing and having a conversation. Seated at the patio close by the house were her parents, along with a second pair of adults who she was pretty sure were Max's mom and dad. Chloe glanced over at William, flipping burgers on the grill, then forced herself to look away again.

_No_ , she told herself, screwing her eyes shut. _Dad is dead, and this is a dream_. Just like all those other dreams she used to get in the years after he died. When she opened her eyes, though, she was still in her yard, in a memory that may or may not be hers, in a time that was definitely not the present day.

She was momentarily overwhelmed with nostalgia. A lump formed in her throat as she took in the entire scene: her eight-year-old self, carefree, flying through the sky, her best friend by her side. William and Joyce, alive and happy together. A time before it all went to shit.

"Why are you showing me this?" Chloe shouted to the world around her. Predictably, nobody in the scene around her reacted; it was as though she were a ghost. "Why even bring me here?!"

Closer to the house, just outside the sliding door that would take her inside, Chloe spotted another triangular mirror that was the same height as her, hanging in midair like a hole cut out of reality. Its gauzy, blurred surface was tagged with black pen, too, with the words _Everybody lies!!!_ in her own handwriting. Underneath the tag, the mirror showed a blurry scene from a different place and time entirely. She approached it, peering at it from all angles. The mirror remained inscrutable.

"Oh, so it's like that, is it? You just want me to go along with whatever crazy shit from an alternate reality you wanna show me next?" She crossed her arms and gave a huff of impatience. She cast one last glance back at the happy memory from her childhood. Much as she wanted to live in that world forever... it wasn't real. At least, it wasn't real _anymore_.

"...Fine," she said at last, putting her arm through the mirror. "Show me what you got."

 

@@@ ɑ @@@

 

The most unsettling thing about Alpha Max as she pulled you along beside her was the fact that she was cold. Her hand on your wrist gave only pressure, no warmth; it was like holding hands with a corpse, or a spirit. You shivered. Was that a consequence of what she had done to herself, rewinding herself out of existence?

You were moving rapidly forward in time, and you watched as the years swirled around you and flashed past in the blink of an eye. If this was Alpha Max's power, then it was unlike any time travel you thought was possible.

Suddenly, the time distortion stopped, and you found yourself in the back of a car. Cardboard boxes and duffel bags were piled up around your feet. A familiar stuffed animal was clasped in your arms. The car was parked outside of a funeral home.

You peered out the side window, where a procession of people dressed all in black were moving, carrying with them a large pine box. You saw your mother comforting another woman, whose eyes were red from crying. Several paces behind her, wearing a small black dress, you were surprised to see a young Chloe -- now aged twelve or thirteen, but still a child. Her head was bowed, and tear streaks shone on her face.

"Max," said your father from the front seat. You tore your gaze away from Chloe and looked over at him. "You should go say goodbye, before we hit the road. Chloe needs you right now."

Your younger self clutched the stuffed animal closer and shook her head, sinking further into the back seat of the car. From your vantage point, you wanted to scream at her. Chloe had obviously just lost her dad -- and you were supposed to be her best friend. So why not say anything?

_Why just sit there?_ You wondered. It was painful, watching yourself sit paralyzed in the back seat of the car while Chloe was clearly grieving.

Alpha Max's voice came from a point somewhere behind and to the right of you. "We were grieving William, too," she explained. "And we were selfish and afraid. It was easier, then, to not say anything, than to take action and deal with those feelings. But the fact is... we abandoned her when she needed us the most."

After several minutes of waiting in silence, your mom re-entered the car and the engine started up again. As you pulled out from the parking lot of the funeral home, Chloe looked up, watching you go through tear-clouded eyes. You saw the expression of hurt and confusion and betrayal on her face, but were powerless to do anything about it. Regret weighed heavy inside of you as you slumped further down in your seat, hiding yourself from view. You were leaving Arcadia Bay, perhaps for ever. In time, maybe you'd forget about Chloe.

Your own tears prickled the corner of your eyes, and the scene of the car blurred around you as you started to cry. As the car passed the 'Welcome to Arcadia Bay' sign and merged on to the highway, you felt Alpha Max's pull on you again, and you were transported out of the memory and away to a different time.

 

*** β ***

 

Chloe stepped out through the mirror and onto a metal surface that rattled and shook beneath her feet. She stumbled, then righted herself as she gathered her bearings. Shipping crates and boxes surrounded her, as she surveyed the scene: the metal walls covered in graffiti, the rhythmic thumping and squealing of metal underneath, and the soft sounds of conversation that were barely audible over the machine noises. She was on a train -- a freighter, one that was vaguely familiar.

As she peered around the stacks of crates, she saw two figures seated on boxes and staring out the open side of the train car at the forested scenery that went flashing by. The person on the right she immediately recognized as a teenage version of herself, after she'd cut her hair short but before she dyed it blue. Sixteen-year-old Chloe wore a Firewalk tee-shirt, from a legendary show she'd attended the night before, as well as a shiny black eye, another souvenir from the concert. Her body language indicated she was nervous, but trying to hide it and appear nonchalant.

As soon as Chloe recognized the person seated to the left, she understood her younger self's nervousness completely. Rachel Amber was just as radiant at age 16 as she was at 22. Chloe's heart flip-flopped; all the feelings for Rachel that she'd buried when they broke up came rising to the surface once again.

She remembered this moment, on this train: the day after they met at the Firewalk concert. Her scruffy punk younger self couldn't believe that Rachel Amber, the most popular girl at Blackwell Academy, would want to spend time together with her. Even though Rachel had had her own personal reasons to cut class and hijack a train on that day, for Chloe it had felt like a dream come true. Rachel was the most beautiful person she'd ever known, who had whisked Chloe away from her ordinary, miserable life and transported her into a world filled with mystery and wonder.

_Beautiful and mysterious, huh?_ Chloe thought to herself. She'd thought those things about Max, too. _Guess I do have a type after all..._

"--Two truths and a lie," Rachel was saying. "I'll say three things about myself. Two will be true, and one won't be. Your mission will be to guess which one is the lie. Then it'll be your turn."

Teenage Chloe really, really wanted to impress her. "Okay," she said, "let's hear what you got."

Rachel listed off facts about herself, which by now Chloe knew by heart. _I know you're not from New York City, Rach,_ she thought, then cringed as her younger self badly mistook one of the other truths for a lie. _Well, okay, I was distracted,_ she thought to herself. Fortunately, Rachel didn't seem to mind.

"Your turn, Chloe," Rachel said.

The younger Chloe contemplated what she was gonna say for a second. Then she opened her mouth, but to Chloe's ears, her own voice came out like garbled static at first, before resolving itself into words:

"--Wanted to be a pirate when I was a kid," she said.

"I'm gonna call true on that one," said Rachel. "That seems too specific to make up... and it fits you, Chloe Price."

Teenage Chloe nodded. "I used to play pirates with my best friend -- I mean, ex-best friend Max," she said. "We did everything together. Then she moved to Seattle and I guess forgot about me..."

From her hidden vantage point within the train car, Chloe blinked. This wasn't how she remembered the conversation going. But everything else about the scene fit in with how she recalled it. It was as though some unseen force had cut and pasted images of Max into her past memories.

_Are these... my own memories? Why am I seeing this?_ Chloe wondered. She questioned again whether this was the afterlife, if it meant that she was going to have to spend all of eternity replaying her shitty life again and again.

At the other side of the train, she noticed another mirror. The graffiti drawn on its surface was anything but subtle: the pen marks portrayed a skull, its eye sockets filled in with deep black spirals. She got a strange feeling, looking at this one; a kind of ominous malevolence. She felt like she really, really didn't want to see what was on the other side. But, looking at the scene in the train car around her, she couldn't stay here. Somebody had left behind this breadcrumb trail of memories for her to follow. Like it or not, there was only one way for her to go.

As the younger Chloe shared her earbuds with Rachel, Chloe crossed to the other side of the freight car and stepped inside the mirror.

 

@@@ ɑ @@@

 

"The first mistake we made was leaving Chloe and Arcadia Bay," Alpha Max said as you traversed to another scene, in another time. She led you through a corridor of shifting colors and indistinct forms, walking across time as though it was no different than wading through a shallow stream. She moved through time with practiced ease that far surpassed yours: as a time traveler, Alpha Max made you feel like a rank amateur.

She slowed down at your side, and time slowed down too. The shapes all around you resolved their forms, and you found yourself standing in the hallways of Blackwell Academy once again.

Students moved back and forth throughout the hall, holding distant conversations, listening to music in their earphones or arguing over trivial things. You and Alpha Max stood in the center of the hallway, and people automatically navigated around you as though you were invisible. _Just like how I remember high school_ , you thought, remembering how you'd frequently felt like nobody.

Alpha Max looked at her surroundings with a weary expression on her face. "The second mistake we made was coming back five years later."

Flyers and posters covered every available space on the walls, promoting club events,  sports games, and public service announcements. One poster stood out to you: a black-and-white photo of a girl -- a young woman -- who you didn't recognize, but who looked captivatingly beautiful, even on a Missing Persons poster. The sign read, **Missing: Rachel Amber.**

_Rachel Amber_ , you thought to yourself. _Where have I heard that name before?_ She hadn't been someone who received one of your tattoos. And yet, you felt an important connection to that name.

_Oh, wait._ "Chloe's ex-girlfriend?" you asked, mystified. Chloe had mentioned her only in passing, but she didn't want to talk about her in detail. You realized she represented an aspect of Chloe's life that you barely understood at all.

Alpha Max shook her head, a sad expression in her eyes. "We never even got to meet her," she said.

"What are you talking about?"

Her expression looked hollow. "Rachel Amber is dead."

Your stomach dropped like a stone. _Dead? How?_ The last you'd heard of this woman, in the time where you were from, she was alive... you thought. Chloe probably would have mentioned having a dead ex-girlfriend. The pretty face in the photograph seemed so young, and so full of life.

"There is a darkness at the heart of Arcadia Bay," Alpha Max said. "It took her... and it tried to take Chloe, too."

"What kind of darkness?" Alpha Max didn't answer, so you tried again with another question. "...Why did you bring me here?"

"I brought you here because you need to understand what made us who we are," Alpha Max said. She led you through the hallway and stopped before the doorway of a girls' bathroom. "This is the moment when our powers awakened. It was the beginning of the week that would change everything forever."

Alpha Max pushed open the door and you followed her inside. The bathroom was damp, somewhat dirty, and the mirrors and walls were covered with graffiti. The scene flickered, like a video skipping, and suddenly Alpha Max was gone from your field of view. Looking around to see where she'd gone, you caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. Your outfit had changed since you performed the time leap into the past: you were wearing a gray hoodie and pink undershirt. You noticed with a feeling of irony that the shirt had your pseudonym _Jane Doe_ printed on it.

Your shoe slipped on a piece of paper that was lying on the ground. As you bent to pick it up, you recognized it as a torn photograph: that same picture you'd seen back in the classroom, of yourself looking towards the photo wall. _Why is this here?_ You wondered. _Did Alpha Max tear it herself?_

As you stared at it, you noticed a flicker of motion in the corner of your eye. Fluttering through an open ventilation shaft was a butterfly with luminous blue wings. _It's that butterfly again. The one on Chloe's tattoo_ , you thought. Transfixed, you watched as it fluttered through the air and alighted on the rim of a metal bucket.

_Something about this whole thing feels so familiar_ , you thought as you bent to examine it. You were pretty sure this wasn't a species native to Oregon. What was it doing here? It must be a sign...

With a bang, the door to the bathroom flew open again. On reflex, you ducked behind the stall boundary as a teenage boy stormed into the room, a manic look in his eyes. After scanning the room and not seeing anybody there, he bent over a sink and began talking to himself frantically.

"It's cool, Nathan... don't stress... Y-y-you're okay, bro. Just count to three..." he muttered to himself, stuttering and trembling.

_Holy shit, is that Nathan Prescott?_ You recalled the punk-rock version of Nathan from your timeline. _This guy looks way more out of control..._

As Nathan continued muttering nervously to himself, the door opened again, and you felt your heart flutter in your chest. Out of all the people to walk into the bathroom, you weren't expecting to see Chloe Price herself: her hair dyed brilliant blue, looking sullen and spiky in her beanie and bullet necklace. A striking tattoo - not your own work, but beautiful all the same - decorated her right arm. You felt a sudden urge to call out to her, but you held yourself back. _This isn't real,_ you reminded yourself. _This is a vision that Alpha Max is showing me. I don't have any actual power here..._

"I hope you checked the perimeter, as my step-ass would say," Chloe said, peering inside each of the stalls in the bathroom. You held your breath as she approached, even though you knew she wouldn't see you. Just as she was about to check around the corner where you were hiding, she spun around to face Nathan again. "Now, let's talk bidness--"

"I got nothing for you," he growled.

"Wrong. You got hella cash," she replied. You suddenly realized what Chloe was trying to do. This was... blackmail? She seemed to be threatening Nathan with some kind of secret that he didn't want the world to know about. In that moment, you remembered Alpha Max's words. _The darkness at the heart of Arcadia Bay_ , she'd said. Was that what was at stake here?

Chloe got aggressive, pushing into Nathan's personal space. "I can tell the whole world that Nathan Prescott is a punk-ass who begs like a little girl and talks to himself--"

"You don't know who the fuck I am, or who you're messing around with!" Nathan shouted, brandishing something shiny and metal from the pocket of his blazer. The lights of the bathroom glinted off the pistol which he held in shaking hands, its barrel pointed directly at Chloe.

Chloe took a step away from him. Her hands automatically raised in a defensive position as she stared at the gun, then looked up at Nathan, suddenly scared. "Where'd you get that? What are you doing?!" The confidence in her voice was gone now, replaced by fear. "Come on, put that thing down--"

Nathan advanced on Chloe, pinning her against the door with the gun pointed directly towards her gut. "Don't _ever_ tell me what to do. I'm so _sick_ of people trying to control me!"

"You are going to get in hella more trouble for this than drugs--"

"Nobody would ever even _miss_ your punk ass, would they?" Nathan spat back as Chloe struggled to grab his arms and push him away.

" _Get that gun away from me, psycho!_ " Chloe screamed, shoving Nathan at the same time that a loud BANG! sounded throughout the bathroom.

"NO!!" You shouted, extending your right arm in a reflexive attempt to rewind. Time seemed to enter slow-motion as Chloe collapsed, a crimson red bloodstain blooming around the gunshot wound in her chest. She hit the ground, and the gun fell from Nathan's grasp and clattered to the floor beside her. You watched in horror, powerless do anything as you watched the gruesome scene unfold before you.

Time slowed until it froze to a stop. Chloe's eyes stared out lifelessly towards you from where she lay on the floor, and you suddenly understood the hopelessness and despair that Alpha Max had been alluding to. Then, before your eyes, time started to flow backwards: Chloe lifted up from the floor, the bullet returned to the barrel of the gun, events rewinding themselves backwards into a blur that momentarily overwhelmed your senses.

 

*** β ***

 

Chloe stepped out of the mirror and into another familiar scene. She was in the old junk yard, the one where she used to go with Rachel in order to get away from the misery of daily life in Arcadia Bay. She'd been here so many different times, and felt so many different emotions out here in the forest among the corpses of cars.

The strange aura from earlier persisted. There was a bad feeling in the air -- a sort of wrongness that clung to her lungs as she breathed in and set her heart hammering against her chest. _When is this? What the hell am I about to see here?_

She heard the squeal of brakes and the scrape of tires against the dirt road as a truck pulled up to the entrance to the junkyard. It wasn't just any pickup truck; Chloe would recognize that peeling paint job and gasping engine anywhere. It was _her_ truck, the one she'd poured her money and time into for a chance at freedom for herself and Rachel. And sure enough, the woman who stepped out from the driver's seat was none other than Chloe Price herself.

Her blue hair indicated that she was about two years older than the Chloe she'd just seen riding on the freight train with Rachel. No sooner had she stepped out from the car door did she break into a run, hurrying past the fence and into the junk yard.

A second person got out of the passenger's seat of the car. "Chloe, slow down! Wait for me!" shouted a familiar voice from the car. Present-day Chloe was only slightly surprised to see Max Caulfield there too, hurrying after her. _This must be this Chloe's memory_ , she thought. _But... where's Rachel?_

"I know exactly where I'm going," said the other Chloe. She sprinted past rusted-out refrigerators and old road signs, as Max struggled to keep up behind her. She approached a mound of earth, recently overturned, covered in trash and glass shards. "Look, this is it. This is it!"

Max caught up to her as she fell to her knees and started digging through the dirt with her hands. "Are you going to help me, Max?!" she asked, her voice shrill and desperate.

"Chloe, stop," Max said. "Look." They had unearthed something that was buried in the shallow grave.

"Please, no..." the other Chloe pleaded. Max retched and recoiled from the foul odor of what they had just uncovered. "Rachel..."

_Rachel? That's... not possible..._ A horrific truth began to dawn on Chloe, who was watching this from afar. _In this timeline, Rachel is..._

"No, no, please, not her," sobbed the other Chloe. She stumbled away from the grave and fell to her knees, retching. Max got up and approached her, wrapping her in her arms as the other Chloe broke down in anguish.

"I'm sorry, Chloe, I'm so sorry," Max was saying as she held her.

"I loved her so much... how can she be dead?!" Chloe rocked in Max's arms, tears spilling out from between her fingers onto the earth. "What kind of world does this? _Who does this?_ "

Chloe, seeing her other self break down, fell to her knees as well. She couldn't imagine a life without Rachel, her beloved, the most important person in her life for so many years. Any world that would take Rachel Amber's life was a world that didn't deserve to exist. She clenched her fists with rage.

"This is BULLSHIT!" she shouted at the top of her lungs, and as she did, fractures appeared all across the scene surrounding her. Without a sound, the scenery in the junkyard shattered to millions of pieces. Fragments of glass spun out in all directions, and she was on her knees in the mirrored dream space again. Maybe she had never even left.

She pounded a fist against the floor. "This fucking SUCKS!" she shouted into the void. "Why... why would they take Rachel... who would do something like that..." Her tears landed on the glass floor in perfectly circular drops.

In the distance, Chloe thought she heard footsteps. _God, what kind of emotional torture next..._ she thought to herself. But she forced herself to sit up, rubbing her wrist across her face to clear the tears away from her eyes, and looked through her blurry vision at the source of the sound. At first, all she saw was a splash of bright blue. When the blur cleared, there was a person standing several feet away from her.

"Oh, hey, you're back," said a familiar voice. Her long, skinny legs, distressed jeans, and skull tee-shirt gave her identity away before even her bright blue hair did. Chloe found herself staring up at another version of herself -- the blue-haired Chloe from the vision she'd just witnessed.

Her other self extended a hand to help her up. Chloe accepted it, surprised at the warm solidity of her touch, and got to her feet. She narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing this younger version of herself with suspicion. Max had called her other self 'Alpha Max'... so, then, this must be _that_ Max's Chloe.

"I was wondering how long it'd take you," said Alpha Chloe. "Looks like you found the clues I left behind for you alright. I guess you've figured it out by now, right?"

"Figured what out?" She glared at her other self. "Don't fuck around. Rachel-- Rachel is--"

"Yeah," Alpha Chloe said, sadly. "She-- she just disappeared from Arcadia one day. I could never understand why she'd leave without me... why she broke the promise we made to run away together. When Max came back into our life, I wanted her to meet Rachel... my old best friend, meeting my new one. With Max's power, we were able to find out where she'd gone... but..." She covered her mouth with one hand. Her blue eyes shone with emotion. "Rachel never left Arcadia Bay. She -- she was murdered."

"But--" Chloe protested. "That doesn't make sense. Rachel and I got out of Arcadia Bay. We moved to Portland, we lived together--"

"Different timelines, sister," Alpha Chloe said. "It's all 'cause of what Max did. She tried to change the timeline, so that Rachel would survive and the storm wouldn't come. But... it didn't take."

"The fuck does that mean?!" Chloe shouted. "What is this place? Why am I here?!"

"Well, since you're in here with me, that can only mean one thing really. Hate to break it to you like this, but... you're dead, Chloe."

 

@@@ ɑ @@@

 

When you came to, you were seated in the classroom again. The teacher droned on about light and shadow and daguerreotypes, the same exact lecture you'd heard before.

Alpha Max was there too, seated in the chair in front of you. She looked up at you with sad eyes.

"What you just saw in the bathroom was the moment our powers awakened," she told you. "The first thing we did with them was save her life."

Your body was still trembling from the shock of watching Chloe get shot. If Alpha Max had saved her by rewinding time, then... the puzzle pieces began to fall into place. You remembered everything you knew about time travel. _The more serious the alteration, the greater the after-effects_ , one of your alternate selves had told you regarding the Strangeness. Saving Chloe would have significant consequences... but there was no way that Alpha Max could have known that at the time. It seemed a cruel joke.

"When you saved Chloe... is that what brought the Strangeness?"

Alpha Max nodded. "I thought it was a gift... When I got my powers, I thought my purpose was to save her. But... it wasn't. Chloe was meant to die in that bathroom," she said in a deadpan tone. "If we had just let her die, then the storm wouldn't have come. Arcadia Bay would be spared."

For a moment, the scenery around you flickered. The daylit scene of the classroom became replaced with the howling, malevolent vortex of the storm, too massive for comprehension, carving a violent swath through all of Arcadia Bay. Then you blinked, and you were back in the classroom again.

"I didn't know that at the time, though," Alpha Max said. "So instead, I saved her, and together we had... the most incredible week of our lives."

More visions flashed before your eyes, like snapshots from a polaroid camera. You saw Chloe, driving her truck, looking pissed-off. Chloe, reclining and smoking a joint. Chloe, in bra and underwear, taking a flying leap into a swimming pool. Chloe, doing tricks with a silver pistol in the middle of an old scrap yard. Yourself and Chloe, lying on Chloe's bed, taking a selfie together. Impulsively kissing her on a dare. Holding hands and walking down train tracks, promising you'd always be the other's partner in time.

The more snapshots flooded your vision, the more you became overwhelmed with emotion. _It's like falling for her all over again_ , you thought. You weren't sure if the powerful feelings you experienced, seeing those memories, were yours or Alpha Max's.

But then the images turned more violent. You saw Chloe, recoiling from having just been struck across the face. Kate, despair in her eyes, standing in the rain next to a 50-foot drop off the roof of a building. Chloe, trapped on the train tracks as a freighter bears down on her. Chloe, seated paralyzed in a wheelchair with an IV drip, the bright fire in her eyes replaced with pain and hopelessness. Yourself, arms and legs bound in a dark room with a camera trained on your face. You saw blood and death and other, darker things...

Alpha Max spoke. "Don't you understand? I've seen it all. I've experienced every possible outcome. I've seen Chloe's death again and again: bleeding on the bathroom floor, crushed by a train, shot in the head... e-even..." she trembled. "Even... with my own hand, I..."

Seeing her pain, you wanted to reach out and comfort her, which you did on impulse. As you did, your hand passed through her shoulder. She was totally intangible.

She smiled sadly at you. Her form flickered like an analog TV with bad signal. "Rewinding myself out of existence... it was the only thing I could think of that would spare her from the darkness, and grant her a piece of happiness, for a while... even if it meant I became what I am now,"

"What... _are_ you?" you asked her at last.

"By erasing myself from the time stream, I lost my physical form. Without my body, I became little more than a collection of snapshots and memories. Little pieces of time..." she trailed off and gazed out the window.

"So you're... a time ghost? Made out of memories?" You shivered. What she was describing seemed a fate worse than death. "How long has it been like this?"

"I don't have any real sense of time passage in here. Actually, it would be more accurate to say that I now exist in all times at once and can travel between them at will. But without my body I can't change anything anymore. In order to alter the timeline, I need to physically exist in space."

"Huh..." you said. "That makes sense..." You knew that there were several aspects of your rewind power: the physical, where you moved your body and objects through time, as well as the metaphysical, which was how you were able to move your consciousness back in time and retain information from the future. And Alpha Max's Rewind had erased her physical body, so that only her consciousness remained.

"I've had a long time to reflect on my actions, and that was when I realized... there was still something I could do to save Chloe and Arcadia Bay. I needed the power to travel back in time to alter a specific point in the past, during the five years I was absent from her life."

"Like my Soul Window..."

"Exactly. And I needed a body again. Fortunately, when I did the Grand Rewind, it created an alternate reality... so I was able to take a physical form in that new timeline I made. When I did that, I lost my connection to all my memories for a while. But I knew that I'd eventually remember, and come back to the Alpha timeline to restore everything and save Chloe, once and for all."

"W-what are you implying..." you asked, afraid to hear the answer.

"It's you, Max," Alpha Max said. "You are the future version of me."

 

*** β ***

 

"You're fucking with me," Chloe said. "There's no way I'm dead. I -- I wouldn't be talking to you!"

"Actually, I'm dead, too," Alpha Chloe said. She gestured at the mirrored space all around them. "This place we're in right now exists because of Max. It's kinda like a separate dimension made up of all her subconscious memories across all the possible realities. So, I'm not really myself. I'm really just a collection of Max's memories of me."

"But... then..." Chloe ran a hand along her arm with the tattoo. It sent tingles of energy up to her shoulder. "How does it all feel so real? How come I still feel like... me?"

"That tattoo..." Alpha Chloe leaned in to examine it. "Looks freakin' sweet. Max gave it to you, didn't she?"

"Yeah..." She looked down at the lighthouse on her arm. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"It's filled with her powers. You can feel it, right?"

The cerulean wings of the butterflies seemed to crackle with latent energy, sending tingling sensations up Chloe's arm. "...Yeah, I guess I can."

"That's why you're still you. Max's powers are keeping you intact... for now," Alpha Chloe said. "But it won't last forever. That's why we gotta get a move on," she said, turning her back and gesturing for Chloe to follow her.

"Where are we going?" Chloe sprinted until she caught up alongside her.

"Max -- both your Max and mine -- is planning something big," Alpha Chloe explained. "She wants to fix the timeline and create a new, stable reality where Arcadia Bay survives and you and Rachel do, too. But she can't do it without help, so that's why we're here to bring the cavalry."

"The... cavalry?" Chloe glanced around her at the mirrored void. "But there's nobody here besides us."

"Trust me, they're here," said Alpha Chloe. "You just gotta know where to look." Then she reached out and spun one of the mirrors that was floating in the air nearby. It rotated rapidly on its axis, until one of its rotations revealed somebody's face, and then a person fell out of the face of the mirror and landed on the glassy floor.

"Oww... what was that for?" the person winced, picking themselves off the ground. Chloe stared at her in fascination. The woman was Max... but different. She looked a bit older than the Max that Chloe knew, and wore a streak of black through her hair. "I was taking a nap..."

"Sorry, sister, but sleepy time can wait," said Alpha Chloe. "We need your help."

The alternate Max narrowed her eyes at both Chloes. "Who're you?"

"Your gay lover from another universe," Alpha Chloe said. "Our Max is dealing with a time paradox that's destroying both our worlds. She's gonna try to create a new stable timeline, but doing that's gonna require a lot of power, as well as someone watching over it all to make sure shit doesn't go bananas."

The alternate Max stretched. "Well... this is probably all just a dream anyway, so sure, I'll lend a hand," she said. "It's always reassuring to see when one of the other me's fucks up worse than I ever did."

"Sweet. Come with us," Alpha Chloe said. Then she turned towards Chloe. "Every Max from all possible realities comes here when they're dreaming. You just gotta find them, and convince them to come with us. That tattoo should make things easier." She gestured towards the lighthouse on Chloe's arm. "It's filled with Max's power, so it'll react when one of them is nearby."

"Got it... I think," Chloe said. She felt a low-level tingling in her arm.

"Sweet. I'm gonna search in the other direction. But don't worry," she said, reaching into her pocket to pull out her black marker. She uncapped it with her teeth and drew a tag on the mirror beside her: an all-seeing eye. "You'll know how to find me when the time comes."

"I just follow your tags, right?"

"Exactly," Alpha Chloe said, re-capping her marker. She gave Chloe a cheerful wave. "Good luck, other me! We'll see each other again at the end of time." She turned her back, her blue hair swirling, and the alternate Max followed behind her. Her footsteps echoed through the empty space, and then Chloe was alone once again.

_That was fucking surreal_ , Chloe thought to herself as she wandered the mirrored space. Even from a distance, she could see the mirrors that bore Alpha Chloe's markings.

Following Alpha Chloe's advice, Chloe closed her eyes and focused on the feeling she got from her tattoo. The tingling intensified as she approached one of the mirrors. Taking a deep breath, she reached out and spun it on its axis. A silhouette appeared on its surface, which solidified into somebody's face. The mirror slowed down to a stop, and the woman on the other side stepped out.

As soon as she saw Chloe, she gasped. "Chloe! Wait--" she looked at her more closely. "You're not the same Chloe I know..."

"I'm not," Chloe replied, shaking her head. "To be honest, I'm not really sure what's going on, either. But I just met my past self, and we're trying to stop a time paradox. Do you think you can help?"

"A paradox, huh? Those are pretty serious," the other Max said. "I'm Maxine, by the way."

"I'm Chloe... but, uh, you kinda knew that already," Chloe said, smiling crookedly. Seeing all these different versions of Max from different timelines was super weird, but at this point, Chloe was just rolling with it.

Maxine giggled; it was exactly the same as Max's laugh, which caught Chloe off-guard a bit. "That's a cool tattoo," she said, pointing to Chloe's arm.

"Thanks," she said. "Max -- my Max, that is, she gave it to me."

"Oh! You mean _that_ Max!" Recognition flashed across Maxine's face. "I know her! She's the one with the tattoo power, right? Do you know how she caused the paradox?"

Chloe shook her head. "It's not her. There's -- another Max, we call her Alpha Max, who um, fucked up her timeline so badly, she used time travel to erase herself from existence."

"Wowsers," Maxine said, and it seemed that some things were constant across all realities. "But... I haven't heard of Strangeness from one universe spilling over into the next. Unless the two universes were connected somehow..."

Chloe frowned. "I... I think they _are_ connected. Both of us have been having dreams of memories from that universe since we met. Spending time with Max always used to give me a sense of _deja vu_. And the storm..." she glanced down at her arm. "For some reason, I get the feeling that it's the place where their universe and ours intersect."

"Weird..." Maxine shrugged. "Well, anyway, you've got my help, at least until I wake up."

"Cool," Chloe said. "The, uh, the other Chloe I saw -- she's from the same universe as the time paradox. She says we're gonna need a lotta Max-power to create, um, a new reality?" She scratched her head. "God, listen to the words I'm saying... this is totally nutso..."

Maxine rested a hand on your arm. "It's okay," she said. "We're all a little nuts. Time travel tends to do that." She tilted her head at Chloe. "...Well? Let's find some more of me. It sounds like you'll need a lot of help."

Chloe nodded, and she and Maxine made their way through the hall of mirrors, following the trail of graffiti that Alpha Chloe had left behind for them.

 

@@@ ɑ @@@

 

"I'm a future version of you? That... that doesn't make any sense!" you protested. "I'm my own person!"

Alpha Max set her hand down on your desk. Then, like a camera shutter opening and closing, the scene of the classroom around you changed. The desks and chairs and photo equipment and students and teacher disappeared, and you found yourselves standing on a cliff, looking out at a sunset over the ocean.

To your right, towering against the pink and orange sky, stood the Arcadia Bay lighthouse: your final destination, the very image you'd embedded in Chloe's arm. But, you had arrived there at the wrong time. Instead of a storm-tossed sea, the ocean below the cliff's edge was placid, shimmering gently underneath the sun's weakest rays.

As you stood on that cliff, a nostalgic feeling hit you like a crashing wave. You _remembered_ this place. You remembered Chloe carving your names into the wooden stump by the entrance to the trail. As you turned to look, your eyes confirmed it: the words _Chloe + Max 4 Ever_ were still there, embedded in the slowly rotting wood. To your left, past the edge of the cliff you could see all of Arcadia Bay, the town sleepy and gleaming in the light of the setting sun. It was wreathed on all sides by thick forest. _I'm home,_ you thought.

Before you, Alpha Max was seated in a bench at the cliff's furthest point, her face turned towards the sun.

"The Golden Hour," she said. "It's the best time of day for photography." She looked over her shoulder at you. "Oh, are you finally remembering? It's about time."

You looked away from the town and turned towards her. "I... I remember..." Suddenly you doubled over as a splitting migraine seared through your temples. Your head was spinning and discolored spots appeared across your vision as your mind attempted to process what was happening. It was as though you suddenly had two sets of memories competing for space in your brain.

Gritting your teeth against the pain, you forced a question: "What... the hell... is going on?"

"Hmm... How do I explain in a way that makes sense to people that still think in three dimensions?" Alpha Max tapped a finger on her chin thoughtfully. "Well, when I performed the Grand Rewind, it split our timeline in two. In one universe -- I grew up in Arcadia Bay, knew Chloe from when we were kids, saved her life in the bathroom at Blackwell, and caused a storm that would destroy the town. That's the Alpha timeline." She pointed at you. "Then there's the other one, where I grew up somewhere besides Arcadia Bay, Chloe grew up without knowing me, and Rachel Amber survived. That's the Beta timeline -- your universe," she explained.

"But... from the minute the Beta timeline was created, it was doomed, and it's my fault," Alpha Max said. "It was unstable and incomplete. Like, you know how you have all those gaps in your memory? Like why people call you 'Max' instead of Maxine, or why Chloe looks so familiar to you and you don't know why? That's because your real memories are here in the Alpha timeline, in the places I just showed you. Everything you think you remember about your life in the Beta timeline... it's really just a placeholder," Alpha Max said. "I'm sorry it took so long to return our memories. But your timeline was invisible to me until you found Chloe again."

"My whole life..." you stared at the spiral tattoo on your hand. "How can these memories be false? They're my own..."

"Nature finds a way of filling in the gaps," Alpha Max said. "Technically, you were the same age as me when your timeline was created, and everything before that point was a substitute memory. Your childhood, and the emptiness you felt inside... it's because a part of you was missing. But then you found her again."

"But what about the paradox? How can I stop it from destroying our world?"

Alpha Max shook her head. "Max, you should understand this by now... the paradox exists because you exist. There's no way to prevent it without also destroying your reality."

"No!!" Your voice echoed across the bay. A strong sea breeze blew through, carrying with it the scent of salt and sound of seagulls, tousling your hair and your clothes.  "I-- I won't accept it! I came here to stop the paradox, and to stop you, and I'm not giving up on Chloe!"

Alpha Max got up from her bench and approached you. She laid a hand on your shoulder, and the weight of her touch was barely noticeable. "I'm sorry, Max..." she said. Her head was bowed, and you noticed again how her hair clung to her as though wet. "Your timeline has most likely already ended by now. There's no chance Chloe is still there."

"Fuck you," you practically spat in her face. "You're abandoning Chloe? Now, of all times?"

"I didn't say that," Alpha Max said. "Our separate timelines are doomed, yes. But the reason I brought you here is for a different reason." She reached out for your hand with the spiral tattoo. Light pulsed from the ink lines on it as she lifted it up. "I need your Soul Window. It's the only way... I can bring our timelines back together again and create a new one: a stable universe that's not gonna collapse on itself."

"Why should I trust you?! You're the reason everything went wrong!!"

"Fair point," Alpha Max said. "You're right -- when I caused the paradox, I was ignorant of the true extent of my powers. I was reckless, emotional, and desperate, and ended up destroying Arcadia Bay as a result. But things are different now." She looked at you directly. Inside her hollow eyes, you could see a spark of determination. "I've had centuries to plan this out. While I was unstuck in time, I mastered my abilities. I've learned secrets of the universe that no Max has ever known. And it's all been for the sake of this moment. For you," she said, and she squeezed your tattooed hand in hers.

"My whole life..." you looked down at your hands, wrapped in Alpha Max's ephemeral ones. "...It's all been a lie? A made-up memory..." You blinked, and your true memories from the Alpha timeline continued to fill in the gaps you hadn't realized were there. It was as though you'd been living your life in black and white, and you were finally seeing everything in full color.

"This was always your destiny," Alpha Max said softly. "That's why I gave up my memories to become you. And that's why I gave you your Soul Window." She traced a finger over the spiral on your hand.

You looked up at her, confusion in your eyes. You recalled the dream you'd had where the Max in the mirror had given you the spiral tattoo. "The Max in the mirror... was you?"

Alpha Max nodded. She reached behind herself and pulled out an object, holding it out to you. Your eyes widened: in Alpha Max's outstretched hand, gleaming in the golden rays of the sunset, was your tattoo gun.

"I'll take you to the storm," Alpha Max said. "That's where you need to do it. Reach into your own past, find the darkness from the heart of Arcadia, and purge it from existence. Weave the two timelines back together. Make our split universe whole again." Her form began to flicker, as though the signal was cutting out.

"Wait--" you protested. "Don't leave-- I don't know how! When should I go back? What do you need me to change?!"

"Follow your memories," Alpha Max said, her voice sounding far away. She pressed the handle of the tattoo gun into the palm of your hand. "The answer is inside you. You already know what to do."

She laid her hand across yours. You could see the glow from your spiral tattoo shining through her translucent skin. She looked up at you, her blue eyes shining with desperate hope. Then she began to dissolve before your eyes, her edges fraying and scattering on the wind, turning into hundreds of glowing, blue-winged butterflies. They swirled all around you, their iridescent wings reflecting the shining light of the sun.

The sea breeze howled in your ears. A flash of lightning split the sky, as the peaceful sunset was replaced with a wall of malevolent grey-green stormclouds. Icy rain and wind lashed your face as you stood on the edge of the cliff, looking out at the towering, malevolent vortex of the storm, heading straight towards Arcadia Bay. The lighthouse up above you groaned and tilted in the violent winds.

You made it to the storm. It was finally time.

The vicious winds swept away the swarm of blue butterflies, leaving only a single one behind, perched on your left hand while you held the tattoo gun in your right. Its wings whipped about in the wind, but it clung fast. You watched, fascinated, as its wings seemed to glow more and more brightly. Its shape appeared to sink into your skin, leaving a glowing blue outline behind.

In your other hand, your tattoo gun whirred to its life of its own accord. You suddenly realized what Alpha Max had been telling you to do.

Pressing the needle point to the back of your left hand, you started to tattoo the outline of the blue butterfly onto your own skin.

 

*** β ***

 

Chloe followed the trail of graffiti that her Alpha self had left behind, amassing a small army of alternate Maxes as she travelled through the mirror dimension.

She and Maxine were soon joined by more variations of Max than she'd ever thought possible. She met a petulant, younger Max who looked about twelve or thirteen; a boy Max who politely introduced himself as Maximillian; a punk-rock rebel Max whose fashion sense could give Chloe's a run for its money, and a quiet, reserved Max who wore a black butterfly mask over much of her face. These were joined by others, until soon there were upwards of thirty of them.

Some of them recognized her; she wondered how many universes there were where she and Max knew each other. How many times had they fallen in love, across infinite realities? How far would they go to save one another?

A memory of Max's voice echoed in her ears: _I'll always be your partner in time_.

Max needed her. What she was trying to do... to build a better future for her and for Rachel and everyone and Arcadia Bay... Chloe would do everything in her power to make that happen. Even though she didn't have time powers herself. Even though she was going to stop existing entirely, once Max's powers in her tattoo ran out. Even if it didn't work, in the end. She needed to try.

At last, she and her army of Maxes came to the end of the trail. Alpha Chloe was standing there, surrounded by nearly twice as many alternate Maxes. She was leaning against a massive triangular mirror, bigger than any of the others she'd seen in the space. Across its surface, she'd tagged the unmistakeable symbol of a butterfly.

Alpha Chloe smiled as she approached. "You made it," she said. She appraised the group of Maxes that Chloe had managed to recruit. "Nice work. This should be enough."

Chloe looked at her past self. "So what do we do now?"

Alpha Chloe tapped on the glass of the mirror. "This will lead you to the lighthouse, where Max is waiting," she said. "There's just one problem. None of us can leave this dimension. Only you can cross over, and when you do, you'll only last for about a minute."

"O-only a minute? Then what was the point of all this?!" She gestured to the Maxes surrounding her.

Alpha Chloe approached her. She took Chloe's left hand and, using her black pen, drew a star on her inner wrist. "Don't worry," she said, putting the cap back on her pen. "Before you go, I'll have every Max here put some of their powers into your tattoo. You'll carry all of their knowledge and time powers to Max, who can use them to rewrite our timeline."

"Okay..." Chloe didn't know what to think. But she wanted to trust her Alpha self. "What happens then? Do I just... stop existing?"

"Well... yeah," Alpha Chloe said. "We're from a doomed timeline. You, and me, and your Max and mine, none of us will stick around to remember any of this. But I -- I believe in Max. She's gonna make us a better world, one where Rachel doesn't have to die, and Arcadia Bay isn't destroyed by the storm. We can be together again! Just-- not us, specifically. But that's okay. I've come to terms with it already." She squeezed your wrist. "Chloe, this is the only way."

Chloe grasped her Alpha self's hand, squeezing back. "All right," she said. "I'll do it... for Max."

Then Maxine approached Chloe's side. "Chloe... what you're doing, undoing a paradox, is super brave and awesome. You're just as amazing as ever, no matter the universe." She laid her hand on Chloe's upper arm, above the tattoo. Her palm glowed white, and Chloe felt a bolt of energy shoot through her.

Maxine stepped back. "I've done what I can," she said. "It'll be up to you to finish the rest of it. But if it's you, and Max, you can do it. I'm sure of it." She took a step back. "I gotta go back to my own world now. Good luck, Chloe."

As she stepped away, another Max came to take her place. "Chloe," said the Max wearing the black butterfly mask. "I know how devoted you are. You've got this, okay?" Her touch felt icy-hot on Chloe's forearm as a jolt of power surged through her blood.

Then the younger Max stepped up. "I'm not surprised one of my other selves fucked up this badly," she said, placing her hand on Chloe's arm. "I'll give you what I know about this kinda thing, so that she'll know what _not_ to do in order to fix it." Her touch burned, and left Chloe feeling a little itchy, but she knew better than to touch it.

One after another, the alternate versions of Max approached her to touch her tattoo and deliver a portion of their powers. Some of them offered words of reassurance, while others kept silent.

Finally, the last Max approached her. "Chloe," she said, her voice cracking. "I'm sorry... I couldn't save you in my time."

"Um... it's okay," Chloe said.

"I'm going to give all of my powers to you. If-- if I can help save your world, even though you're another Max's Chloe, then -- then it's worth it," she said. She sounded choked up.

"Do... you want a hug?" Chloe asked, and no sooner had she said that then Max pulled her into an embrace, her head tucked into Chloe's chest, hands grabbing tightly to the back of her shirt. Her energy poured out, crashing over Chloe and filling up every cell in her body. She continued to hold tight to her, even as her powers drained away to nothing, and Chloe wrapped her in her arms, feeling her body shake and tremble.

"Please," begged Max. "Please, save her..." Chloe held her for a moment longer, before she pulled away. She wiped the tears from her eyes. "Thank you."

"I'm the one who should be thanking you," Chloe said. "I promise... I'll do my best."

The other Max nodded, and stepped backwards, seeming to fade away as she did so. Chloe was left standing there, alone with her blue-haired Alpha self, beneath the towering butterfly mirror.

"Well, this is it for me," Alpha Chloe said, sounding weirdly chipper about it.

"Aren't you... kinda freaked? You're gonna stop existing when Max rewrites the timeline. I mean, we both are..."

"No -- I'm already dead, remember?" Alpha Chloe shrugged. "Besides... my timeline sucked. Dad and Rachel and everyone left, and by the time Max showed up, it was too late to save it. I'd happily give it all up for a world where Rachel is still alive and we can be with Max again." She grinned crookedly. "Really, I'm being selfish here..."

"I get it," Chloe said. "I wouldn't -- I wouldn't want to live in a world without Rachel, either. Even if she's not with me... she deserves to be happy."

Alpha Chloe nodded. "Well, let's not waste any more time," she said. She tapped the mirror, and the blurry image under its surface sharpened. Chloe saw the now-familiar, but still terrifying sight of the lighthouse on the cliff beside the storm. "Get in there, Chloe. Max is waiting for you. You can save both our worlds."

"...Okay." Chloe took one last look at her blue-haired Alpha self, at the impossible plane of shattered memories surrounding them, and then turned to face the butterfly portal again. She took a deep breath. Then she took a step forward.

 

@*@*@ ɑ β @*@*@

 

With a flash of lightning, Chloe appeared on the cliff by the lighthouse. It looked just like every dream she'd ever had: the howling wind, driving rain, and the towering vortex of the storm. Max was there, facing the storm, a look of determination in her eyes.

Max looked up at her with a gasp. "Chloe! You're-- how are you here?"

Chloe ran to her. The rain soaked into her clothing and skin as she reached out to touch Max's cheek, to feel the warm flutter of her pulse which quickened as they made contact. "I found you again, just like we promised," she said.

She looked closely at Max. The artist was holding her tattoo gun in her right hand. The spiral tattoo on that hand was glowing, and on her left hand, she had nearly finished tattooing a second image: a butterfly, shining blue.

"How did you get here?!" Max asked in a breathy voice.

"I had some help," Chloe said, needing to raise her voice to be heard over the howling wind. "I was in this weird mirror-place, where I met my past self, and a bunch of other versions of you." She looked out at the tornado, which was headed straight towards Arcadia Bay. "They all gave me their power. You can-- take it, and use it to create a new universe."

"Chloe," Max said, her voice gasping. She reached out to touch Chloe's face, using her thumb to wipe away freezing raindrops. "When I -- when I make this new timeline--"

"We won't remember anything that happened," Chloe told her. "I know. But that was what we agreed on, remember? Back in the bar in Portland? I made you a promise." She gripped Max's wrist and placed it against her own tattooed arm. "I promised I'd do whatever I could to help fix everything."

"I remember..." Max's eyes welled up with tears. "Chloe, I'm-- I'm afraid..."

"It's okay. We're in this together. We're partners in time." She felt the time power surge in her blood. "Max, do it already! I don't have much time left."

Max stood on her tiptoes and kissed Chloe. Her lips tasted like salty seawater, and a tiny arc of static electricity leaped between them as she pulled away. Then she placed her hand against Chloe's tattoo arm, using the other hand to point the tip of the tattoo gun at the butterfly design. She took a deep breath as she drew in the final, glowing blue lines to complete the shape of the butterfly.

As soon as she did, Chloe felt the energy that had been poured into her spilling outwards from her into Max. The lights from Max's tattoos, as well as the lights within her eyes, shone brighter and brighter. The fractal tattoo on Max's back began to grow before her eyes. It spread down her body, its glowing coils curling all around her forearms and up the sides of her neck. Chloe watched Max become a shining beacon of light, brighter than even the lighthouse itself.

The lights from Max's eyes bathed Chloe in their warm glow. The power filling up her veins actually caused her to lift several inches up from the ground, her hair floating weightlessly around her face. Seeing her start to drift away, Chloe reached out to take her hand.

"Chloe... thank you," Max said, her voice sounding like several voices speaking out all at once. "It's time. I remember everything. I know what to do."

"Max--" Chloe said, her voice choking out its words. With the power drained from her, she could feel her grip on reality slipping. "I promise-- I'll find you, in the new reality. I'll always find you."

"I know. Chloe -- I love you," Max said, as her body continued to rise upwards. It was all that Chloe could do to hold on to her hand.

"I love you so, so much," Chloe sobbed. Their hands drifted apart, so that only their fingers were touching.

"It's time," Max said. "The paradox is here. Time to rewrite time."

Chloe let go of her hand.

 

***

 

_I'd sacrifice anything come what might_  
_For the sake of having you near_  
_In spite of a warning voice that comes in the night_ _  
And repeats, repeats in my ear_

_Don't you know, little fool?_  
_You never can win  
Use your mentality, wake up to reality_

_But each time that I do, just the thought of you_  
_Makes me stop before I begin  
'Cause I've got you under my skin_

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With thanks to Frank Sinatra & Dinah Washington.
> 
> Thanks for reading. Epilogue will be up in a few days.
> 
> Also thanks to [ItsAVikingThing](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsaVikingThing/pseuds/ItsaVikingThing), your feedback & comments are fantastic!  
> Their fics are amazing too, so go check 'em out ;)


	14. Omega

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every end is a new beginning.

Tucked away in an alley located in the southwest Arts district of Portland, next to a dry cleaner's and around the corner from an organic coffee shop, sat the unassuming storefront of Jane Doe Tattoo & Photography.

It was the kind of place that you needed specific directions to get to, and even  _ then _ it was a bitch to find. But Chloe Price had managed to not only find it, but also to book an appointment with the mysterious and elusive artist whose name adorned the sign. She clutched the slip of paper with the time and date of her appointment in her hand as she lingered outside the front door of the studio. 

She wasn't... nervous, no. Definitely not. She was just going in for a one-on-one consultation with one of the most exclusive and critically acclaimed tattoo artists on the entire west coast. Besides, Jane Doe was multi-talented -- her photography had gained widespread recognition and commercial success, too. Small wonder she was able to operate her own independent studio, albeit in Portland, not someplace prohibitively expensive like Seattle.

_ Enough wasting time,  _ she thought, scuffing her boots on the brick sidewalk.  _ Let's get this over with _ .

She pushed open the door to the artist's studio and was greeted by the cheerful jingle of a bell. Past the door was a small waiting area, with a reception desk and some chairs for guests. The man seated behind the desk looked up as she walked in. He was bald, heavily muscled with a scraggly beard -- he looked more like a bouncer than a secretary. His tough appearance seemed at odds with the soft indie vibes that the studio gave off otherwise. Chloe noticed his tattoos: vivid blue, fish-like scales rolled down his shoulders, forming the watery backdrop for an ocean scene across his bicep. Dark shapes of fish-like creatures swam across his skin. She recognized the artistry right away.

"You got an appointment?" The tattooed man asked in a gravelly voice.

"Yeah," Chloe said, presenting him with the slip of paper. "Two o'clock with Jane Doe. I'm looking to get a tattoo."

The burly man scrutinized her critically. Chloe was used to dealing with people's judging looks, however, so she stood tall under his gaze. He glanced at her right arm -- at her own sleeve tattoo, the roses, ribbons and skulls she'd gotten on the day she turned eighteen. It was no Jane Doe tattoo, sure, but she was proud of it all the same. She'd gotten it together with Rachel, in the days following their flight from their shit-pit of a hometown.

"Have a seat," the tattooed man said after a pause. "The artist will see you shortly."

Chloe nodded and sat down in one of the chairs in the waiting area. She scanned the photo prints and tattoo designs on the wall: photos on the left, tattoos on the right. According to the sparse personal information she could gather online, Jane Doe had originally studied photography before beginning her practice as a tattoo artist. She was also notoriously secretive, and her presence on social media ranged from negligible to nonexistent. Despite the dearth of public information about herself, and the fact that 'Jane Doe' was almost certainly not her real name, she had managed to gain renown in certain enthusiast circles online. Ever since Chloe had discovered her work, she'd known that it was her destiny to get Jane's ink on her skin.

Scanning the photo prints on the wall, Chloe was filled with an inexplicable feeling of nostalgia.  _ Photography, huh? Reminds me of somebody I knew once... _ Chloe knew more about tattoos than photography, but even she could tell that Jane's photographs were something special. The images of breathtaking sunsets, birds in flight, and skateboarders poised mid-leap brought back memories she thought she'd buried a long time ago.

Opposite the photo wall, on the right side of the studio, prints of Jane Doe's frankly breathtaking tattoo illustrations hung side-by-side. Her most famous work, the Tree of Life, hung in its frame above the secretary desk. The spiralling, fractal complexity of its branches drew in the viewer's gaze and exuded a feeling of peaceful eternity. It showcased Jane Doe's technical expertise and her visionary creativity. But it wasn't Chloe's personal favorite. That honor was reserved for a smaller tattoo design, framed next to the tree, which depicted a blue jay in flight. Reflexively, Chloe pulled out her phone; the same image was her current lock screen.

She bounced her knee. The clock read 1:58. The gentle sounds of indie rock music filtered softly through the speakers in the corner of the room. The local college radio station was playing a familiar song by a band Chloe liked. That was a good sign, right?

1:59. The tattooed man got up and went into the back room. Chloe listened to his heavy footsteps and couldn't help but run through every disaster scenario in her mind.  _ Jane Doe is too busy to take on new clients. Jane Doe doesn't do designs for people who already have tattoos. Jane Doe doesn't work with poor, scruffy punks from nowhere towns down the coast-- _

The burly man returned from the other back room. "The artist is ready," he said. "I'll take you to her studio."

Heart pounding in her throat, Chloe got to her feet. She pocketed her phone and followed the man around the corner. He led her to a closed door and knocked on it three times.

"Max," he said. "Your next client is here."

_ Max?!  _ Chloe thought.  _ There's no way. No fucking way... _

The door to the studio swung open. Standing in the doorway, perfectly framed like one of her photographs, stood a young woman, one whose reappearance in Chloe's life now seemed a paradox.

"Hey, Chloe," said Max Caulfield, her long-estranged childhood best friend. She was smiling knowingly, as though she'd been expecting Chloe's arrival.

Chloe's jaw dropped. "Max fucking Caulfield? Is... is that really you?  _ You're  _ Jane Doe?"

Max beckoned her forward. "Come on inside," she said, leading Chloe into her tattoo studio.

Chloe couldn't help but stare, speechless, as she followed Max into the room. She barely had time to process all the artwork on the walls -- the original draft sketches of the Jane Doe tattoos she'd admired so much. A tattoo chair sat in the center of the room, while a desk and drafting table in the corner was covered in stacks of sketches, notepads, and art supplies. But Chloe had eyes only for Max, who was way more interesting than the rest of the room put together.

When Chloe had known Max, she'd been a shy, socially awkward pre-teen. She usually faded into the background, content to hide behind the lens of her camera, but with Chloe's encouragement she came out of her shell and showed a playful, dorky side of herself. Chloe remembered pretending they were pirates, drawing comic books, building blanket forts and staying up late watching cartoons together.

_ This _ Max carried none of her younger self's shyness; the timid girl had grown up into a confident young woman. She was still short -- at least  _ that _ much hadn't changed -- but her braces were gone, and her hair was shorter, hanging just above her shoulders. Freckles dotted the pale, flawless skin of her face. She was wearing a short dress, which flattered her slim figure. As befitting of a tattoo artist, she had several tattoos herself: spiralling, geometric black lines formed a perfect symmetry on both of her arms. The backs of her hands had tattoos, too: a simple black spiral on her right, as well as a blue butterfly on her left. Her blue eyes sparkled with amusement as she watched Chloe staring in awe. 

Realizing her mouth was hanging open, Chloe closed it and ran a hand through her hair nervously.

"How can this be real..." she muttered, half-speaking to herself. "Max, it's been more than a decade. I never thought I'd see you again..."

"I know," Max said. "When I saw your name come up on my wait list, I wasn't sure it was really you... but I fast-tracked it anyway, just in case." She smiled, and Chloe felt the residual twinges of her first-ever childhood crush, which had never truly faded away.

"O-oh, um, I guess that explains it then," Chloe said, struggling to regain her composure. "When I got the e-mail that said you'd take me, I couldn't believe it..." She shook her head in disbelief. "Max, you're like, a legend... I've admired Jane Doe's tattoos ever since I first saw them. Seriously, they're fucking incredible. And your photos are amazing too."

Max tilted her head bashfully, blushing a little. "You really think so?"

Chloe nodded enthusiastically. "Like, I know you're probably tired of hearing this, but holy  _ fuck _ are you talented." She smiled too. She felt giddy inside, like she was a little girl again.

Max gestured towards the chair in the center of the room. "Have a seat," she said, and Chloe dutifully approached and sat down in the chair. Unable to resist, she kicked off the floor and spun the chair around in a circle. When she turned back around to face Max, the artist was giggling.

_ Her laugh sounds the same as how I remember, _ Chloe thought.

"Good to see some things haven't changed since we were kids," Max said. "I remember how you always used to do that in your dad's computer chair. Oh, um..." her face sobered. "Sorry, I... didn't mean to mention..."

"It's fine," Chloe said with a shrug. "It was over a decade ago. It-- sucks, yeah, but I'm... better now than I was back then. I think. Life goes on, and all that."

Max still seemed troubled. She twisted the hem of her dress in her hands. "Chloe... when my family moved to Seattle, I... I'm sorry we didn't stay in touch. It's my fault. I... I was afraid to reach out, at first, and then it was just too easy to say nothing at all--"

"Max, it's okay," Chloe repeated. Internally, she marveled that she was having _ this  _ conversation today, of all days. "I mean... don't take this personally, but after months of waiting for you to text back, I kinda just gave up and moved on. I made other friends, you know?" She looked aside. "Well, one friend in particular..."

Max's eyes lit up. "I'm glad," she said. "So... how have you been?"

Chloe shrugged. "Better now that I got the fuck outta Arcadia Bay. Nothing like a town where everybody knows your secrets and thinks you're a good-for-nothing stoner who will never amount to anything." Max gave her another concerned look, so she explained, "After Dad died and you left, I had a shitty couple of years. Mom started dating a fascist douchebag, I got kicked out of school, and everything sucked for a while. Then... I met Rachel, and suddenly everything sucked a lot less."

"...Rachel?"

"Yeah. Rachel Amber. I guess you could say we were best friends. She was -- the only good thing in my life, for a while anyway." Chloe chewed her lip. "We used to cut class, hang out and smoke weed in the abandoned junkyard, and when I fixed up my truck we'd go for long drives down the coast. Eventually we moved out here together, split rent on a shitty apartment, tried doing the independent-adult thing."

"How long ago did you move to Portland?"

"Must've been... four years ago? Oh, but we travelled up and down the west coast for a year, living out of the truck and doing odd jobs." Chloe drummed her fingers on the arm of the tattoo chair. It felt weird, talking about Rachel with Max, given all their history... "I wish you could meet her, but she's not in Portland anymore. She's not even on the west coast."

Max frowned. "Why did she leave?"

"It's -- complicated," Chloe said, which seemed like an understatement. How could she explain  _ I thought we were dating but Rachel was never big on monogamy and we had a fight and afterwards living together became too painful _ to a girl who until five minutes ago had been nothing more than the ghost of a childhood memory?

"She got a modelling contract in New York," she settled for. "Rachel's gorgeous, and she got an offer from a big-time agency. Portland was too small-town for her, anyway, and it was always her dream to live in the big city. But I was busy working my job at the skate shop, so... we split up." It felt strange, describing what felt like an earth-shattering change in those three simple words.  _ We split up _ .

"Hmm. That's a shame," Max said. "It sounds like she's important to you. I would've liked to meet her."

"You still can, next time she's around," Chloe said, although she had no idea how  _ that _ conversation would go.  _ Hey, Rachel, remember my absentee friend that I kept comparing you to for the first year of our friendship? Well, she exists and she's famous now. Maybe let her take your picture? _

"So, Chloe..." Max looked her up and down, her gaze lingering on the tattoo on Chloe's right arm. "You came to see Jane Doe today for a reason, right?"

"Oh, uh-- yeah, I did," Chloe said. "Because you're like, the best tattoo artist I've ever seen, so I thought... I mean, I was hoping..."  _ Why the fuck am I nervous, this is Max I'm talking to. _ "I want a tattoo."

Max nodded, smiling. "Where do you want it?"

"I was thinking..." Chloe gestured to her left arm. "Here, on my other arm. It's something I've wanted for a while."

Max approached her side. Chloe felt the hair on her arm stand up as the artist leaned in close to examine her. Her delicate fingertips traced a line up Chloe's arm, and she shivered at the touch.

"What did you want a tattoo of?" Max asked, giving Chloe a sideways glance.

"U-umm... uhh..." Chloe's brain short-circuited for a second, lost in the sensation of Max's  touch. After a moment, she found her words again. "To be honest, I... I wasn't quite sure. I was gonna ask for something like... this, but with a crow or something," she said, showing Max her phone's lock screen with her blue jay tattoo design.

Max looked at the design. "Oh, the blue jay..."

"It's my favorite one of yours," Chloe said. "But that was before I knew you were...  _ you _ ."

Max nodded. "Yeah. It'll have to be something really special, right?"

"Like, something that's meaningful for both of us..."

"Hmm," Max said, looking pensive. "Well, there's no need to decide right now. I'll need time to come up with your design, anyway."

"So you'll do it, right?" Chloe looked up at her hopefully. "You're really gonna make me one of  your hella awesome tattoos?"

Max laughed, bright and full of energy. "Yes! Of course, Chloe." she said. Then she offered Chloe her hand to pull her out of the tattoo chair. It wasn't necessary, but Chloe took her hand all the same and got to her feet. At her full height, Chloe was about six inches taller than Max.

"You're still short," she pointed out, smirking.

Max shrugged. "Touche," she said. Then she pointed towards the door. "Hey, d'you wanna maybe get something to eat? There's a diner near here that does great sandwiches and curly fries."

"Is this, like, part of the consultation?" Chloe asked.

"Sort of... mostly I'm just hungry. And I figured that after not talking to you for ten years, lunch was the least I could do. My treat," Max said. "Plus, we've got  _ lots _ of catching up to do."

At the mention of food, Chloe's stomach growled. "Oh, uh, yeah, that sounds great actually," she said. "Besides, if you're paying..."

"Don't get used to it," Max said, smiling at Chloe over her shoulder as she walked to the door and pushed it open. She addressed the tattooed man at the front desk. "I'm taking my lunch. Back in an hour or so."

Chloe followed her out of the studio and onto the brick sidewalk outside. The familiar daytime sounds and smells of the city surrounded them. More than two million people were living their lives in blissful ignorance of what had happened to her, busy and lazy in the mid-afternoon sunlight.

For what felt like the thousandth time, Chloe counted her blessings: she was free, and alive, and against all impossibility, she had reunited with her long-lost best friend.

She glanced over at Max. Seeing her again after so many years brought out a strange feeling. She'd stopped imagining their reunion more than five years ago. But now, at the stage she was at in her life, it seemed like the perfect time.

Chloe cleared her throat. "Not to be weird, but... I feel like there's some bigger reason we met today. Something like..."

"...Like destiny?" Max asked.

"I wouldn't go that far... though, maybe..." She scratched her head. It almost felt like deja vu, but she chalked that up to all her old memories coming back after their reunion.

"We can talk more about that later," Max said. "If you're willing."

She started to walk down the sidewalk and beckoned Chloe to walk by her side. As she did, their hands brushed for the briefest of moments, and Chloe thought she felt a spark of static electricity jump between them.

_ I must be tripping _ , Chloe thought. She caught a smile in the corner of Max's mouth.

Gently, surreptitiously, she reached out and twined their pinky fingers together.

 

***

 

_ Four weeks later... _

 

"Finally!" Max breathed a sigh of relief and set down her tattoo gun with a click. "It's finished, Chloe. You can look now."

"Seriously? This is awesome! You're awesome!" Chloe couldn't keep from grinning. Max held up the hand mirror to Chloe's right arm, which bore the shiny ink of a fresh tattoo.

Jane Doe's signature style was photorealism -- it was as if the photograph itself was developed onto Chloe's skin, seeming just as alive in ink as the subject was the moment the picture was taken.

The tattoo showed the Arcadia Bay lighthouse, its tall spire standing proudly atop the cliff where she and Max had visited time and time again as children. Beyond it, the waters of the Pacific seemed to shimmer, placid waves reflecting the golden light of the setting sun. Sailing on that ocean was the distant silhouette of a black-sailed pirate ship. Above the lighthouse and trailing up Chloe's shoulder, a flurry of bright blue-winged butterflies drifted peacefully through the sky.

Max had taken a symbol from their childhood, an image of guidance and clarity, of positive change and metamorphosis. Now, it was an inseparable part of Chloe, as close to her as the memories she and Max shared.

"Well?" Max looked at her with a nervous smile on her face. "...Do you like it?"

Chloe stood up. She approached Max until they were standing face-to-face mere inches apart.

"Of course," she said, her voice soft. Her fingertips traced over the swirling ink lines on Max's forearm, sliding down to her hands and twining their fingers together. Max's breath hitched as Chloe brought her left hand, which bore the mark of the blue butterfly, to her lips.

They had found each other again; partners in time, reunited. There was no force in the universe strong enough to keep them apart.

 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> // Author's Notes:  
> Wow, we're finally here! It's been a wild ride -- more than a year, in fact! Thank you all for sticking with me through this roller coaster of a story. Writing it has been lots of fun, and kind of crazy. Mid-way through, Life is Strange: Before the Storm came out, and it was so good that I started to incorporate details from it into the main story. Getting to revisit Arcadia Bay and learn all about teenage Chloe has only reawakened my love for these characters and their world and this series in general.
> 
> Because it's not explicit in the text, I wanted to clarify: the final chapter takes place in the "Omega" universe that Max created when she merged the Alpha and Beta universes together. When she did that, she used up all her time powers, which is why in this world, Max has no such abilities.
> 
> Also, even though this story is done, this isn't the last you'll see of me! I'm starting a new Pricefield AU soon. The working title is "Everyday Heroes" and it's a superhero story. If you liked this fic, then please check it out! :)
> 
> Thanks to everybody who read, commented, and left kudos! You all inspire me to keep creating more in this universe.  
> I have a tumblr: pirates-of-arcadia-bay.tumblr.com


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